#so more of these to come. i will draw more hermits so help me god | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

according-to-the-laura · 2 years

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StackedNatural Day 171: 1x22, 7x21, 11x20, 12x20

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

May 4, 2022

1x22: Devil's Trap

Written by: Eric Kripke

Directed by: Kim Manners

Original air date: May 4, 2006

Plot Synopsis:

Sam and Dean seek help from Bobby Singer, an old family friend in their mission to save their father from Meg. The brothers set a trap for Meg.

Features: Bobby’s intro, our first Devil’s Trap, Meg getting exorcised, a building full of human shields, going undercover as firefighters, holding your dad at gunpoint, the plans for Sam and all the children like him.

My Thoughts:

It’s shocking how weird a season finale recap feels without Carry On My Wayward Son. Sorry, but it is.

I love the set piece for Bobby’s house, I love the stacks of books and the things pinned to the walls and how it feels like a real place that a weird hermit would really live in. The devil’s trap on the ceiling is a classic move and it’s fun to see the first time they’ve used it. They used to be so ornate, and I get that it slowed plot down if they had to take the time to draw a whole scorpion each time, but they could have made them a bit more interesting later on. Exorcisms were so intense before too, and they cared so much about the victims of demonic possession than they do later on. Dean is talking about how it scares him what he’s willing to do for his family when we know for a fact that it’s going to become routine to him.

It can’t be said enough how wild it is that the demon possessing John Winchester was Too Nice to his kids and that’s what gave the game away. Insane.

Notable Lines:

“Storm’s coming, and you boys, your Daddy – you are smack in the middle of it.”

“You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I’m gonna be the one to bury you.”

“Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t even flinch. For you or Dad, the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just... it scares me sometimes.”

“He’d be furious. That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me, he’d tear me a new one. You’re not my Dad.”

“ You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam – he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.0

IMdB Rating: 9.3

7x21: Reading is Fundamental

Written by: Ben Edlund

Directed by: Ben Edlund

Original air date: May 4, 2012

Plot Synopsis:

Sam and Dean have possession of a Word of God, but are unable to read it. They find a young prophet that can help, but unfortunately, the angels and leviathans are after him, too.

Features:

Kevin’s intro, spookily-timed thunder and lightning, Nurse Meg Masters and Honey-Cas, the Word of God, communication via board game, Hester and Inias, literally so many iconic lines, how to kill a leviathan.

My Thoughts:

I can’t believe how many absolutely iconic supernatural lines there are in this episode. I love a Bedlund ep and this is a great example of one. Even characters working towards the same goal all have different motivations and tactics that put them in conflict with each other, and the emotional strings are a bit more nuanced than your standard monster of the week episode.

The transition between Dean thinking that Cas is fine when they first arrive (actual heart eyes, there) to realizing the impact of the trauma he took on is great. I was writing notes about how he has absolutely no empathy for Kevin, a kid whose life has been turned completely upside down, but so much of his emotional bandwidth is taken up by being scared and upset for Cas. Not to mention blaming himself for the whole situation, because after all, Cas did everything in The Man Who Would Be King for him, and that’s what led him to this state.

Meg is great in this episode. I love seeing how sweet and gentle she is to Cas, especially on the phone right before he pops into the car.

I wish I had the ability to make gifsets because the line “You realize you just broke God’s word?” can apply to Cas in so many situations throughout the series that it is mind boggling. Thesis statement of the character.

Notable Lines:

“Outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee. I saw the route of flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add.”

“ don't fight anymore. I watch the bees.”

“You seem troubled. Of course, that's a primary aspect of your personality, so I sometimes ignore it.”

“The angels – they don't care. I think maybe they just don't have the equipment to care. Seems like when they try, it just... breaks them apart.”

“I've figured one thing out about this world – just one, pretty much. You find a cause, and you serve it. Give yourself over, and it orders your life.”

“The very touch of you corrupts. When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!”

“Well, you know me. Always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.6

IMdB Rating: 8.6

11x20: Don't Call Me Shurley

Written by: Robbie Thompson

Directed by: Robert Singer

Original air date: May 4, 2016

Plot Synopsis:

Features:

Metatron eating out of dumpster, God’s world’s greatest dad mug, God’s blog and front row seat and autobiography, ominous fog, why God created Life, Amara’s message for Dean, the responsibility for Creation, Dean’s immunity, an actual Miracle, the Samulet’s return.

My Thoughts:

I’ve never seen this one and it doesn’t disappoint but it’s also way different than I thought. For some reason I was really sure that Chuck talked to Dean at some point and told him not to confuse him with John because I’ve seen gifsets of that moment, but I guess it happens later on.

The choice to have the God reveal between Chuck and Metatron first is really interesting and not what I was expecting, but I like it. They’re both the most meta characters in the show and they’ve both stood in for the writers at different times, although as Metatron readily admits, Chuck’s plot was better and more interesting. I’ve noticed before that Metatron’s plot was almost a proto-Chuck plot in that they have a writer pulling the strings behind the scenes, so it’s cool to see him confronted with the real God.

The reveal to the boys is great too, it’s cool to create an unwinnable scenario just to show how powerful Chuck is when he saves them. I LOVE that Sam has apparently had the Samulet in his pocket all this time, that he couldn’t bear to let it sit in a trashcan where Dean dropped it in season 5. There better be an explanation of why Dean doesn’t wear it for the rest of the series after this though, or I’m rioting.

Some fun notes that I wrote for myself watching this:

Fine, Dean can be straight but God’s definitely bi

God is a weird little freak with a blog, just like me

Notable Lines:

“Of the metric ton of books I've read in my lifetime, Supernatural didn't even crack the top ten... thousand.”

“I dated. Yeah, I had some girlfriends. Had a few boyfriends.”

“It will all be over soon. He's not gonna save them. It's all going away... forever. But not you, Dean.”

“I've been called many things – absentee father, wrathful monster. But, coward... I am not hiding. I am just done watching my experiments' failures.”

“I know I'm a disappointment, but you're wrong about humanity. They are your greatest creation because they're better than you are. Yeah, sure, they're weak and they cheat and steal and... destroy and disappoint. But they also give and create and they sing and dance and love. And above all, they never give up! But, you do!”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.6

IMdB Rating: 9.4

12x20: Twigs & Twine & Tasha Banes

Written by: Steve Yockey

Directed by: Richard Speight Jr.

Original air date: May 4, 2017

Plot Synopsis:

Alicia Banes calls Mary for help after her mother goes missing. Later, Mary begins to have some doubts about the British Men of Letters.

Features:

Extremely unveiled racism, the Banes twins, Dean holding a wine glass like a neanderthal, Ketch being a clingy one-night stand, nightmare twig figures, Mary finding Mick’s body, the BMoL tracking American hunters, Mary beating the shit out of Ketch, some light body horror, Max making a deal.

My Thoughts:

I love this episode. No idea if it was supposed to be a backdoor pilot but it’s certainly written like one and it deserves to have it’s own spinoff. I want to see the Banes twins travelling around killing things while Max tries to reckon with the deal he made. The episodes you could write around not knowing if Alicia is Alicia or not…

The Banes make such a great mirror to the Winchesters. What they could have been if Mary was the one to survive the fire, the relationships they could have had to each other, and how either way they’ll sell their soul for each other and watch each other die. The line about parents just being people is a Mary thesis. And honestly, Max’s deal is better than Dean’s. Theoretically, he can live an entire life before going to Hell, not just one year.

I also love to see Mary beat the shit out of Ketch! This is a great episode for me! And it leads to There’s Something About Mary, one of my all time top tier episodes.

Plus, Dean calls his mom when he’s stressed about Cas and that is just. Well.

Notable Lines:

“Parents always seem smart and strong and perfect. It's only when you grow up that you realize that they're just people.”

“Brass knuckles are brass knuckles.”

“I'm sorry I haven't been there for you and Sam, but I wanna be. I will be. I just... I need to finish this. I miss you boys. I love you.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.4

IMdB Rating: 8.1

In Conclusion: Watching Devil’s Trap and Reading is Fundamental in the same day makes me want to do a Meg watch along with my Claire watch at some point.

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#Stackednatural #supernatural #spn #1x22 #Devil's Trap #7x21 #Reading is Fundamental #11x20 #Don't Call Me Shurley #12x20 #Twigs & Twine & Tasha Banes

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dycefic · 3 years

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In The Interim

I must have read at least a dozen variations on the 'ancient and forgotten order of something or other is revived by the Chosen One and some ancient mentor or something' story, in which ancient relics or fortresses or holy places usually play a significant part. I've often wondered what happens to them in the interim, while their orders are scattered and their existence forgotten. I'm always fascinated by the generally elided parts of a story - what happens after the evil empire collapses, or while the dystopia is setting in, or the time between the fall and rise of the order of something or other.

Also, you know, I play Dragon Age. Skyhold is... inspiring.

---

There is an ancient fortress that waits in the mountains for the day when its people will return. Dust covers the floors, and many of the ancient statues have fallen.

I do not know what the fortress waits for. Was it an order of scholars? There was a library, with shelves full of scrolls and books. They are ancient and fragile now, so I never enter the room except to light a fire to dry the air, now and then.

It could have been an order of warriors. There are rooms full of ancient weapons. I know what a sword is, though I have never seen swords shaped like this. There are blades on long poles, like some strange mating of an axe and a spear, and other things I cannot name. What is not too rusted, I oil and tend.

Perhaps it was a religious order. There are many statues, and one motif that repeats often, a woman holding a lamp in one hand and a flower or leafy plant in the other. There are statues of her, and paintings on the walls, and even a mosaic of stones in one of the courtyards. I dust the statues and the paintings, and sweep the mosaic. In the room that seems to be a shrine, I keep a light burning on the altar, as the signs tell me others have done before me.

I don’t know what most of what I find signifies. There are chests full of faded and rotted fabric that was clothing once, but I do not know what the sigils mean. There are devices on shelves whose use I cannot begin to guess. There are letters or symbols carved into the stone in several places, but they are not in the language I know.

But there is a garden. Even after years of neglect, the soil is rich. I do not know the language the people here spoke, or why they lived here, but I know the herbs they used. I know the vegetables they ate. I recognised the bones of chickens and goats, when I dug in their midden for fertiliser. I found the bird cotes, and replaced rotted perches and lured the pigeons which had gone wild back with seeds and insects from the garden.

Some of the perches were large, too large for any pigeon. I don’t know what birds roosted there. But sometimes I see a large bird circling high up, a crow or a raven, and I wonder if it’s a descendant of those birds.

The kitchen has been used more recently than the other rooms. In a small room off the kitchen I found an old straw bed, and clothing that is not too unlike my own. And on the wall of that room, scratched on the stone, I found a series of crude drawings.

A figure in long skirts walking up a slope between trees. A crude representation of the fortress. The same figure, standing in the garden, with crude plants around her feet and what are probably meant to be birds in the air over her head.

These I read easily. “I climbed the mountains and found this place. I lived here.”

The next row was different. The same figure, repeated several times. Then a crude outline of a skull. Then a door with a symbol on it. It took me a while to figure that out.

Then I found the door with that symbol, deep below the fortress. When I opened it – cautiously, remembering the skull – I smelled the faint memory of decay.

When I went down, I found an ancient crypt. There were niches in the walls, like narrow beds one above the other, and ancient bones within them. Some had the rusted remains of armour, some the dusty shreds of what might have been robes.

And I found other bones. They were not in niches, but laid on the floor at one end of the room. Twelve complete skeletons were there, and I could see, looking at them, that they were not all the same age. One, at the far right, looked almost as ancient as the bones in the niches. The one on the left still had shreds of flesh here and there, and hair spread around its head. When I examined that one, I found that one of the legs was broken, and had not healed.

They are all women, I think. The newest is still wearing skirts, and I can see the decayed remains on some of the others. What hair remains is long, though it is not certain that either man or woman living in this isolation would cut their hair, and some bones are still encircled by bracelets or necklaces.

They were called here, I think, as I was.

There is a long history of hermitage, among my people. It is more common among men than women, but now and then one will be moved to retreat from the world into solitude and contemplation. Usually they are moved by a god, or go to tend some sacred relic or shrine.

I was alone in the world, when I felt the calling. I packed up my belongings, bade farewell to those few who might miss me, and set out to walk into the mountains. I did not know where I was going, but I knew I was going somewhere. And then…

Then I found this place, and I knew. It is empty, but it is not abandoned. It is only waiting. Waiting until its people come back, until some great need calls them, or destiny, or the turning of the wheel. And while it waits, it is… lonely, perhaps. So it calls out, to those who are right, who will be content in this quiet solitude, who will feed the pigeons and tend the garden and light fires in the library and oil the weapons.

The woman before me broke her leg. Perhaps it bled too much, or wound-rot set in. She must have known she was dying and dragged herself down to lie beside the others. When I know my time is coming, I will go too. If I do not have warning, if death comes quickly, I conjure you who come after me to carry my bones down to that crypt, to lie beside my sisters in peace, until the fortress lives once more.

I leave this record in hope that it will help the next hermit who comes, when I am only bones. And if you who read are no hermit, but coming in some dire need or peril, if you come to awaken again what sleeps here, to give the lady with her flower and her lamp a name, or perhaps to earn your own, then welcome, for we have kept this fortress against your coming.

It has been waiting for you.

(This short account, written on parchment, is preserved by the Order as one of its most precious relics. During the Interim, the period of almost eight hundred years in which the Order was largely forgotten and the fortress was left empty, sixteen women are believed to have been ‘called’ to preserve and tend it. Aside from the bodily remains in the crypt, and a few images scratched into a wall, this is the only evidence they chose to leave of their existence. None have ever been identified, and the parchment is unsigned. Nevertheless, the sixteen Guardians are venerated by the Order for their faithful, solitary service to powers whose name they never knew, and their bones are entombed together, side by side in death as was their wish. Without their care, we believe, there would have been little left for the revived Order to return to.)

#short story #original fiction #those who never see the end of the story #are still important to the story #the Chosen One may come in time #but someone has to sweep the floors #and tend the garden #and keep decay at bay #in the interim

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quaranmine · 3 years

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The Babysitting Game

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well, Grian doesn't have a child but he does have an egg and a village. That’s basically the same thing, right?

Grian acquires an egg. His friends help him.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly fluff! Hermits: Grian, Mumbo, Pearl, and Scar. My first publish fanfic since 2016 and my first hermitcraft fanfic :D ao3 link and some inspirations to be linked in a reblog

Words: 2862

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"What if I touched it really quick?" Scar asked.

"No, don’t-don’t touch the egg," Grian said seriously. "Look, I even made a sign! It specifically says ‘Do not touch.’" He gestured to the sign in question, but Scar ignored him.

"Can I rub it?" he said. The man leaned over it, studying the object carefully. Grian hadn’t known where to place the egg when he got it, and it was just sitting on an anvil for the time being. He didn’t even have a starter house yet, but clearly he was going to need something soon if he was going to protect the egg from some of the more . . . mischievous residents of their Boatem village.

“No, don’t touch the egg! Scar-” Grian walked closer, hands outstretched, just in time to see Scar reach out with his hand and pat the egg.

Vworp!

The egg disappeared into thin air.

Dragon eggs had a tendency to do that. It was a survival tactic--Grian didn't really know how it worked, but just as endermen could teleport away from danger, so could the egg if it were touched. Now whether or not Scar was dangerous remained up for debate…

Scar giggled. "Oh, where did you go?" he sang, hunting around the area.

Well, he COULD be pretty scary sometimes.

"Scarrrr," Grian whined, helping him look. "I told you not to touch it!"

"It's over here!" Scar shouted, finding the egg at the bottom of a small slope nearby. "Just one more time…." He reached out again.

"No!" Grian said, slapping his hand away. "Look, you've got to pick it up the right way." He demonstrated, carefully lifting the egg and placing it in a pouch slung over his back. He had hurriedly stitched it together not too long ago, worried that transporting the egg normally might break it. “If you do it roughly, you’ll scare it and it’ll teleport away again.”

"I see!" said Scar.

"Now, please, don't touch the egg.”

"Oh," Scar said. He straightened. "You're really serious about this."

Grian glared. "I am."

"I'm sorry, I just thought it was funny!"

Grian sighed. "It's okay, Scar. It's just--this thing is a baby, it needs to be handled gently! You can't just go around scaring it! What if it falls into a hole or something?" he hissed.

"Oh my god," Scar laughed, "you're its mother now!"

"No, no, I'm not!"

"You are!" Scar cried. He suddenly stopped. "Oh no, didn't you kill its mother?"

"Well it doesn't know that!" Grian snapped. "Truthfully I didn't realize there would be an egg! And I couldn't just leave it, you know! Here, look at this." Grian gently withdrew the egg from its pack, and Scar moved closer. He held it up to the sun. "Look at that."

The sun shined dark red through the deep purple shell of the egg, making it glow within. In the middle, the silhouette of a curled up creature was illuminated. Blood vessels radiated outward, and at the bottom there was a blank space that Grian assumed was air. The egg’s shell was too thick for any detail to be made out, but the processes happening within were clear. Grian was enchanted with it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

"Wow," Scar breathed. "There's actually a dragon in there! What're you gonna do with it after it hatches?"

"Well, I haven't exactly thought that far--I just want to worry about keeping it safe first. I mean, what do you even do with this thing?" Grian put the egg back in its satchel, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I suppose you keep it warm and safe but, like, I don't know what else-"

"I could help!" Scar said.

"You were just playing with it!"

"Hey," Scar said defensively, "that was before I knew more about it!"

Grian rolled his eyes.

“What are you guys doing over here?” said Mumbo, wandering over. Grian just knew he’d been up to something, and sure enough, there was a new tree next to his little collection of chests. Grian wasn’t very bothered by it, because he already had a plan to get Mumbo back for it.

“Grian is just showing me his new baby!” Scar teased. “He’s a mom now.”

“I am NOT its mother,” replied Grian tiredly, but he smiled at the sight of the other man.

“A baby?” Mumbo asked, choosing to ignore the rest of Scar’s statement.

“A dragon egg,” Grian answered. “I found it in the End.” He paused for a moment, feeling almost bad. “After I killed the dragon.”

“Grian! You’ve orphaned it!” Mumbo sounded scandalized.

“Why do you all keep bringing that up!?” he defended, glancing between Mumbo and Scar, who both gave him disapproving, albeit playful, looks. “I know you’re Mr. Peace, Love and Plants this time, but we’ve always killed the dragon in every new world!”

“Well, I guess that’s true, but it is a little sad isn’t it? You’re taking care of it but only because you killed its mum.”

“Yeah,” was all Grian said. The dragon always needed to be taken care of in each new world they visited, and while it was always a bit of a shame, he’d never really contemplated it that much. After all, he normally wasn’t the one who fought it--that last time in Evo aside. He didn’t really know what he had gotten into but he felt deeply like he needed to protect this egg. It was like a tug in his chest, drawing him into the egg and telling him not to let go.

“Show him the egg!” Scar said.

“You just want to see it again,” Grian replied, but pulled the egg out of the satchel again anyway for Mumbo to see. The surface of the egg wasn’t smooth, like a chicken’s egg, but bumpy. The purple spots almost seemed to glow, and occasionally little violet particles drifted off of it. Grian felt like he could stare at it in awe all day, and apparently his friends felt the same.

“How’re you going to keep it warm?” asked Mumbo after a moment of admiring it. “That satchel isn’t going to be enough, and to be frank, I don’t see you spending any time sitting on it, even if the mental image is pretty funny.”

Grian rolled his eyes at the comment, but thought about it. How would he incubate it? He may have had wings, but he didn’t know anything about eggs, other than that it was a safe bet to assume it needed to be kept warm. “I'm not sure, actually.”

“Hey, let me design something for you!” Mumbo said excitedly. “I could probably use some redstone and make an incubator of some sort for you.”

Grian smiled. “I’d really appreciate that.”

Asking Mumbo to create a contraption for him--what could go wrong?

•·················•·················•

“I’m not wearing this thing, you know.” Grian said, holding the contraption while Mumbo wheezed with laughter in the background. The design that Mumbo had come up with was essentially a backpack with heating elements strung through it, except for one thing . . .

“You-you wear it in the front,” Mumbo choked out, wiping a tear from his eyes.

“Yes, I see that,” Grian replied, unamused.

“Like a swaddle!”

“Yes, I see that.”

Mumbo laughed harder. Grian had to begrudgingly admit that it was well designed, however. It would fit the egg perfectly, keep it warm, and most important it was mobile to ensure that he could take the egg with him. It was thoughtful, especially since Mumbo knew Grian was quite protective of it.

“I’m not wearing this thing,” Grian repeated. “I’m not going to let you all laugh at me while I walk around the server with an egg swaddled to me!”

“I thought you’d say that,” Mumbo chuckled. “Here, you can switch the straps around and turn it into a backpack.” He unclipped the straps and moved them into the new configuration.

“Thank you, Mumbo,” he said gratefully. “This will certainly do the trick.”

“Glad to hear it mate,” Mumbo replied. “Now, while you’re here, may I ask why there is an incredibly tall tree on top of my camper?”

“Sorry, got to go!” blurted Grian, snatching the backpack from Mumbo’s arms and flying off in a burst of feathers.

“That’s unfair, I don’t even have an elytra yet to go chase him down with,” muttered the man as he watched Grian disappear.

•·················•·················•

Grian sat in the grass in front of his starter home and rubbed his eyes wearily. He was exhausted. Is this how all parents feel? he wondered. Was he just uniquely unqualified to be one? After all, this was only an egg! It hadn’t even hatched yet and he was already tired of keeping up with it.

Carrying it in the backpack was heavy, and Grian tired out quickly. It was hot on his back, and Grian found himself having to take breaks to avoid overheating. It was also cumbersome, and he found it difficult to build with as it shifted his weight. He almost fell off the roof once while building it! Of course, having wings meant that Grian could catch himself easily, but it had still given him quite the scare. Dragon eggs were pretty sturdy, and would teleport themselves out of danger if possible, but he was still so paranoid about breaking it. And now there was the Boatem Hole to worry about--what if it teleported itself into the void? These things kept Grian awake at night.

But if he left it...well, just like Grian had a tendency to lose items in his chest monsters, he also had a tendency to forget where he placed things. He had been forced to go back and rescue the egg from some place he’d left it more than once, which he wasn’t exactly proud of. What sort of parent forgot their child?

. . . He was definitely not admitting to being its parent.

Oh God, what did I get myself into?

“Hey Grian, what’re you up to?” came a voice, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up and saw Pearl standing over him. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her hands were in her hoodie pockets. She took a seat on the ground next to him, and followed his gaze overlooking the Boatem village. “What’s on your mind?”

“This--this egg,” said Grian. It sat next to him in its backpack, still radiating heat. “I don’t know what to do with it. I’m just so tired of carrying it around!”

“I have to admit,” Pearl said, “I didn’t expect you to immediately adopt a baby dragon the very next time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well, it was an accident.” Grian groaned. “I don’t know what to do with it now, let alone when it hatches!”

Pearl thought for a moment. “You know, the rest of us are all here for you. The other hermits would be happy to help out, I’m sure.”

The other hermits . . . well of course they would. If it was one thing they were all good at, it was supporting each other. Scar had already taken a particular interest in the egg, although Grian was still a little suspicious of him scaring it again. Mumbo had specially designed an incubator for it. Pearl was visiting him to check up on him and offer help.

All Grian had to do was convince himself to let it go. To let them help.

“I know that but . . .”

“But what? Have you had any reason to believe they wouldn’t?” Pearl asked.

“Well, no.” He thought for a while. He thought of how his friends would lend materials when needed, or how they’d help replace someone’s armor and items if they were lost. He thought about the days where they all teamed up and chose one hermit to help out, and he thought about all the things they did for the good of the entire community without even being asked.

His desire to protect the egg was strong, and putting it into the hands of another person almost felt like simultaneously a betrayal of the egg itself and the biggest leap of faith he could take. But the hermits were good at leaps of faith, because someone was always there to catch you.

“You think it’d be okay?”

“I know it’ll be okay,” Pearl replied. “I haven’t been here very long but from what I’ve seen, I know they’d all help. They wouldn’t hurt it. They might be a little mischievous sometimes,” she said, glancing at Scar’s house, “but they know how important it is and would be happy to help. They helped you before, didn’t they?”

Pearl was right, of course. Nobody on the server had any desire to hurt the egg. He trusted that. If there was anyone that he could trust, it was them.

But how would he get them all to essentially sign up for babysitting?

An idea struck him, and Grian scrambled to his feet. “Pearl, you’re brilliant. Thank you!”

She blinked, a little startled. “Always happy to help.”

•·················•·················•

Grian stood back, admiring his work. A near perfect duplicate of the egg that was currently sitting in the backpack slung around his shoulder, but at a much larger scale. It was built out of obsidian blocks and crying obsidian for the spots, and if Grian was pretty proud of how it looked.

If Grian knew anything, it was that his friends loved minigames. And Grian was not above gently exploiting that fact to get a little help--just like barge game from the last world, where he managed to get his friends to help mine out the stone from next to his mansion. Just slap the title of “game” on something and you could get a hermit to sign up for anything.

“Now . . . I just have to write the signs on the inside.”

The game Grian had come up with was officially called Tegg--he needed to stay on brand with his tag games in every world--but he’d mentally been calling it “The Babysitting Game” for a while now. Because that’s what it really was--each hermit who signed up would also sign up to watch the egg and keep it safe. He set to work outlining the rules.

RULE ONE: Protect the egg and keep it safe.

RULE TWO: Keep the egg incubated or it’ll die.

RULE THREE: Keep a close eye on the egg.

RULE FOUR: Call Grian if it starts to hatch.

Satisfied, he wrote out the rest of the instructions. Because it was a game, he wanted to make it fun for the hermits too, so he’d decided to make it like a scavenger hunt. People were allowed to take the egg, provided they adhered to the rules, and were encouraged to hide it and keep it safe. Otherwise, someone else who wanted to have it could get it. The safer the egg was, the less likely for someone else to find it. The winner was whoever had the egg the longest when it finally hatched. Grian didn’t know how long that would take, but he didn’t want to miss it either, hence rule four.

Yep, totally outsourcing his babysitting onto his friends.

Grian squinted at his wall of signs, before placing one final sign at the bottom: Grian will track the game and has final say on points and rules!

“That should do it,” he mumbled. He still wanted to keep an eye on the egg, to make sure that he knew who had it and how many people’s hands it had gone through. After all, he was the one ultimately responsible for it.

Grian pulled the egg out of the backpack and carefully placed it on the ground. He’d somehow made a habit of just speaking to it every now and then--he had no idea if the little dragon could hear anything in there, but he liked to think that it could. “Hey there,” he whispered, and stroked the top of the egg. “Some new people are going to start taking you pretty soon, but it’s okay. They’re going to give me some help and make sure you’re safe.”

He paused, taking in the little room he’d made and the wall of signs he’d written with meticulous instructions for the egg’s care. It may have been the first thing he’d built for this egg, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be his last. A baby dragon was a commitment and for the first time Grian really let himself think about what that meant, beyond just an egg that he had to carry around. Would he house it? Train it? Let it stay by his side? Would he love it?

I think I already do, he thought.

He thought of the hermits--their mischievousness, their pranks, their hard work, their friendship, and their goodness at heart. They were his family, now. What was one more addition?

“It’s okay,” he whispered to the egg. “I trust them all with my life, but more importantly, I trust them with yours.”

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft fanfic #quara fanfic

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Feeding the Weary Traveler

Mitsuri Kanroji x She/Her Reader

A/N: Warnings for this one are homophobia and a mention of physical assault. Let me know if you think I should mention anything else. It’s a relatively light story considering. I usually like to keep the sexuality of the reader undiscussed so it could be anything, but this time around reader doesn’t seem to be interested in men in the slightest. It’s only a couple of lines but just a heads up. Hope you like it! Sorry if there are more errors than usual. My internet is painfully slow and it makes uploading a chore and a half. Word Count: 6,388

Mitsuri hummed happily to herself as she surveyed the various food stalls lighting up the night around her. She wasn’t sure where she should begin, it all looked so good! She was so lucky to have stumbled upon this bustling little village, and during a festival no less! This dinner was going to be legendary! Hopefully there would be an inn nearby where she could rest between missions and take some time to enjoy it all.

Mitsuri decided that the sweet dango stall was calling her name so she made her way over there first and purchased four skewers. She chewed happily as she walked around and tried to decide what to try next. The dango tasted so good she had half a mind to go back and get a couple more.

The Hashira was about to approach a yakitori stall as she finished her last dango when her crow landed none too gracefully in the dirt beside her. She flapped her wings frantically, her little clover shaped crown slightly askew.

Mitsuri whined as she chewed the last bit of dango before swallowing it down. It looked like dinner was over before it really even started. Well, when duty calls...

She cast one last longing glance at the sizzling meats and followed after her crow out of the village’s well lit valley and into the dark mountains above. Lives could be on the line, dinner could wait.

Mitsuri scaled the rugged terrain, hopping from tree to tree. Her crow flapped erratically just ahead, guiding her to whatever demon was wreaking havoc tonight. Her fingers wrapped tightly over the hilt of her blade as the air became heavy with an overwhelming dense dread that could only be brought on by the demon’s bloodlust.

Mitsuri unfurled her blade and kicked off of the next tree branch particularly hard as a scream ripped through the craggy boulders. A few more leaps and bounds.., she did not slow, a scream could mean many things, it wasn’t over yet. They could still be alive!

Her crow cawed in alarm just as Mitsuri’s eyes locked onto a struggle in the brambles below. Almost on instinct, she cracked her whip-like blade over the demon’s grotesque form, causing it to shriek. The Hashira twirled in the air to land in front of the beast and the young woman trapped and writhing beneath it.

“Get off of her, you miserable fiend!” Mitsuri commanded, readying her blade to lash at the demon again.

The demon wailed again in anger, crushing the dirt beside its hostage’s head before tearing off into the forest in an attempt to get away from the powerful newcomer.

“Oh no you don’t!” Mitsuri called after it, cracking her nichirin blade over its retreating form. The blade sliced into the tendons in the back of one of its legs, causing it to tumble to the ground. Before it could skitter off to heal, Mitsuri swung her blade around again. The specially forged metal curled around the demon’s neck and with one clean yank, it’s head came clean off.

The slayer stayed alert, scanning the area for any other nearby threats. An exhausted caw from her crow alerted her that it was safe to let her guard down. She quickly turned on her heel to asses the young woman’s condition, observing her as she shakily got to her knees.

Her kimono was ripped and dirtied. Blood seemed to be seeping through her cloth of her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and frightened while her breath came shallow and quick.

“Are you alright?” Mitsuri spoke gently, slowly moving into the girl’s line of vision. She didn’t want to scare her anymore than she already had been tonight.

“I don’t know,” she said between gasping breaths, “I, I’m alive. That’s something.” She tried to get to her feet, but something twinged in her ankle and she fell back to her knees.

Mitsuri knelt at her side in concern.

The girl would need some medical attention. “My name is Kanroji Mitsuri. What’s your name?”

“(L/n) (Y/n).” She shakily replied.

“Let me help you home, (L/n)-san. Do you live in the village down below?” Mitsuri asked, helping (Y/n) to her feet, carrying most of her weight for her.

“No,” (Y/n) answered quickly, almost as if the insinuation pained her, “no, I don’t. I live here, in the mountains. My cottage isn’t too far from here.”

“I’ll help you get home, (Y/n)-san. Don’t worry, you’re in safe hands.” Mitsuri assured.

“Thank you, thank you so much.”

Mitsuri eyed the young woman sympathetically. The poor dear was still shaken, but managed to direct Mitsuri in the direction of her home while the Hashira carefully held her up, guiding her through the tough terrain.

Mitsuri frowned at the sight of the worn down shack as it came into view, this couldn’t be it, could it?

“There, I live there.” (Y/n) proclaimed, her voice laced with exhaustion. She must have been able to feel the shift in Mitsuri’s mood at the declaration because she then added, “It’s not much, but it’s home. I built it myself even.”

“Do you live here alone?” Mitsuri couldn’t help but ask, slightly horrified.

“I do.” (Y/n) affirmed, missing Mitsuri’s open-mouthed, wide-eyed shock when she stumbled towards the weathered door. “Thank you again, for saving me and bringing me back home.”

“You’re welcome but...” Mitsuri tried to find words but none would come finally she just shook her head and followed (Y/n)’s stumbling form to the door. “Do you have any medical supplies? Let me help patch you up.”

“I have some things. I’m not sure how helpful they’ll be. You needn’t concern yourself. You’ve done so much for me already, Kanroji-san.”

“Your shoulder could get infected without proper care and your ankle looks sprained or even broken. Let me see what I can do. We might need to take you to the village, there’s got to be a doctor down there.”

(Y/n) shook her head furiously, wincing a bit and grasping her head soon after, “I’m not going into town for anything. I’ll invite you to do what you can here, but that’s where I draw the line.”

Mitsuri was concerned by the girl’s reluctance to go to the village, but she took (Y/n)’s offer and entered the small shack. She was surprised by how homey the inside looked once (Y/n) lit a few lanterns. Not only that, but it smelt heavenly inside.

(Y/n) cursed under her breath as she hobbled over to some kind of makeshift oven and carefully peaked inside before sighing in relief and opened it fully. “It didn’t burn! Thank the gods for small favors I guess.”

“What have you got there, (L/n)-san? It smells very good in here.” Mitsuri said, holding a hand over her stomach in an attempt to quiet its rumbling.

“Bread. Please, help yourself. It’s the least I can offer for all of your help tonight.”

“Really? Thank you!” Mitsuri was practically glowing at the invitation before she remembered why she was here in the first place. “Later! First, let’s check you over.”

(Y/n) gestured to another corner of the space to a wobbly, rustic shelf next to a futon so flat it couldn’t possibly be comfortable to sleep on. Mitsuri’s heart went out to this girl. She couldn’t be too far off from her in age, this was no way to live, and alone no less.

Mitsuri recovered the tin sitting atop the bottom shelf and motioned the girl to sit on the ground as she noted there were no chairs. She kneeled beside (Y/n)’s injured shoulder. A pained grunt rumbled at the back of the hermit’s throat as she painstakingly loosened and lowered the fabric around her shoulders, baring the bloody claw marks to the Hashira.

“Oh you poor dear...” Mitsuri cooed as she gently probed the torn flesh. At least it wasn’t too deep.

“It’s fine,” (Y/n) shivered and looked away, “could you wrap me up now please. Try to be sparing with the bandages if possible.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Mitsuri frowned. She disinfected and wrapped the wound as Shinobu had shown her during her first aid training and managed to only use about a third of the already meager roll. “There,” she gently patted (Y/n)’s shoulder, “that’s all set. Now I just need a look at that ankle. Oh my, it’s swollen pretty bad. We’ll need to elevate it and you should really lay down.”

“I am pretty tired,” (Y/n) sighed wearily, pulling her kimono back up over her shoulders. “Could you help me up?”

“Of course!” Mitsuri eagerly replied, easily scooping (Y/n) up in her arms and standing to her full height.

(Y/n)’s hands scrambled for purchase on Mitsuri’s uniform from the sudden movement. Once she realized Mitsuri’s hold on her was solid and unwavering she relaxed a bit before pulling her hands back to her own chest and jerking her head outwards away from the pale expanse of the demon slayer’s chest. If at all possible, she was sure steam would roll out of her ears like active geysers.

Mitsuri didn’t notice anything amiss and took the few steps needed to lay (Y/n) down in the sad little bed. Then she paid careful attention to (Y/n)’s leg, tilting and rotating it while getting feedback from the girl.

“Well, I don’t think it’s broken, but you should definitely stay off of it for awhile.” Mitsuri informed, feeling anxious. “So you know anyone nearby? Someone that can assist you with your recovery?”

“I’ll be just fine, trust me.” (Y/n) had said.

“That um, didn’t really answer my question.” Mitsuri smiled a bit tightly as more worry settled in her heart. “Do you have family nearby, friends, close acquaintances?”

“If you must know,” (Y/n) weakly spat, “there isn’t anyone. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for nearly two years now.” She finished bitterly.

Mitsuri flinched back at (Y/n)’s tone and the bedridden girl immediately felt bad. She was only trying to help after all. (Y/n) would have been dead without her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

“It’s alright. You’ve had a hard night,” Mitsuri patted (Y/n)’s hand reassuringly. “I’ll just have to watch over you then.”

“Cawww!”

Mitsuri looked over her shoulder at her crow, flapping and comically sweating buckets from her uneasy perch on the windowsill.

“I can take care of myself,” (Y/n) voiced her stance once more, “besides, it looks like your work isn’t over yet. Take a couple loafs for the road as thanks. You’ll need to keep your strength up.”

“I couldn’t.” Mitsuri shook her head. The girl already had so little, it would be a crime to take advantage. She was already paid plenty as a Hashira, she could hold out for a few more hours.

“I insist. I make more than I know what to do with. Quite a bit gets thrown to the wildlife.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” Mitsuri’s resolve crumbled like loose gravel. She was hungry, and the bread smelled really, really good. If (Y/n) was going to insist, how could she say no? Then Mitsuri straightened as an idea formed in her mind. (Y/n) startled as Mitsuri loudly smacked her hands together.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, tomorrow before the sun sets!” Mitsuri said with conviction.

“What?” (Y/n) blinked, watching Mitsuri pack three loafs of bread into a rucksack before giving it back to her crow to fly off with.

“I’ll come by tomorrow to check on you.” Mitsuri said before taking a bite out of a fourth loaf of bread. “Mmm, this is so good!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I have to get going now, but I’ll be back! Keep your weight off that ankle and don’t strain yourself!” Mitsuri called as she opened the front door.

“No, wait, Kanroji-san!”

But she was already gone, the door closed tightly behind her before she ran off headlong into the dangerous night.

“And she’s gone,” (Y/n) sighed, “just who is she anyway? She’s practically superhuman,” she covered her face in the crook of her good arm, “and she’s really pretty.”

***

By morning Mitsuri was halfway through her last loaf of bread and standing before the familiar sight of the Butterfly Estate. After seeing the state of (Y/n)’s medical supplies, Mitsuri thought it prudent to visit Shinobu and procure a kit for the girl.

“Mitsuri, hello.” Shinobu greeted upon looking up from her microscope. “What brings you here today?”

“Shinobu, you have to help me,” Mitsuri immediately started in, “I saved a girl last night and she got a roughed up a bit before I got to her. Can you help me make a medical kit for her?”

“Of course I’ll help you,” Shinobu smiled, “but I must ask, why not just take her to a civilian doctor? Surely they would be able to provide the help she may need.”

“She lives alone in the mountains. She seems to have a bad relationship with the village in the valley below, but I don’t know why.”

“Just be careful then,” Shinobu warned, “who knows, you might be dealing with a criminal.”

“No way!” Mitsuri gasped, waving the last couple bites of bread in front of Shinobu’s face, “Could a criminal make bread this good? I think not!”

“Please stay vigilant regardless,” Shinobu giggled before switching gears, “now, tell me what happened last night.”

Mitsuri explained the situation the best she could, detailing (Y/n)’s injuries and what supplies she had left. Shinobu helped her pack up a new med kit that would not only replenish (Y/n)’s supplies, but give her some other helpful medicines that she didn’t have initially. Mitsuri thanked Shinobu with a tight hug that forced her fellow Pillar to dangle in the air for a few moments before being lowered to the ground once more. Then she made her way off the property, running off into the woods. She had a lot of ground to cover before sunset.

After a few hours of travel Mitsuri was feeling peckish. She had unfortunately finished the last loaf of bread before leaving Shinobu’s estate and didn’t have time to replenish her snack sack that her crow carried for her. If she was lucky, maybe the festival she had stumbled upon last night was a multiple night event and she could stalk up once she checked on (Y/n).

With an excited hum, she practically flew up the mountain, making her way in the general direction she knew (Y/n)’s shack to be.

“Oh dear, was it a left at this boulder or a right?” Mitsuri mumbled to herself. The forest was more inviting in the evening light but it looked so different. Cautiously, she tried the left path and scoured her surroundings for anything that looked familiar.

Mitsuri had begun to grow a bit anxious, worried that she had taken a wrong turn. She took a deep breath through her nose to calm herself which was quickly followed by a few more testing scentings of the air. Something smelled delicious. She couldn’t be sure, but it was the best lead she had so far. She followed the hearty aroma and cheered to herself as the rundown, misshapen hut came into view.

The Hashira wasted no time hopping up to the door. She gave a courtesy knock and announced herself before letting herself inside. She smiled to herself as she imagined how happy (Y/n) would be to have such an arsenal of medicinal goods. That smile quickly became a shocked, open mouth of light horror upon seeing (Y/n) up and moving about her small home.

“Ah! I thought I told you not to put any weight on that ankle, you’ll hurt yourself!” Mitsuri worried. She quickly went up to (Y/n) with her arms out in front of her like (Y/n) would collapse at any moment.

“I couldn’t just lay in bed all day.” (Y/n) tried to reason. “You said you were coming back so I felt the need to make dinner for you. You know, to repay you for all you’re doing for me. A little ankle pain can hardly keep me down.”

Mitsuri was touched by the gesture, it made her heart flutter with appreciation, but (Y/n) needed to follow her instructions or who knows what long term damage she would cause herself.

“It smells wonderful, (L/n)-san and I thank you endlessly, but please, lay down right now!”

“I’ve been taking breaks. I’m fine—ah!“

Ah, swept off her feet by the strong and beautiful demon slayer once again. As embarrassing as being doted on in this manner was, (Y/n) was definitely going to revisit this tender care in her dreams. Gods, she was touch starved.

“Really (L/n)-san, don’t be difficult. Let me check on your shoulder, okay?” Mitsuri didn’t even sound strained as she slowly placed (Y/n) down on the futon.

“Oh, okay.” (Y/n) fought through the fuzzy tingles, shaking them from her body as she slid her sleeve off her shoulder.

“Aw, it looks a little infected,” Mitsuri whined as she softly prodded the tender flesh, “but don’t worry! I paid a visit to a dear friend today and I’ve got everything you’ll need!”

“Kanroji-san, this is too much.” (Y/n) gaped in awe at the tightly packed tin Mitsuri presented to her.

“Not at all! Now, hold still while I apply some of this cream.” Mitsuri beamed before swirling the cool salve over the cuts. (Y/n) flinched a bit but the numbing chill soon soothed the pain.

“Wow, that feels really nice.”

“Right? I can always trust Shinobu for the best!” Mitsuri proudly proclaimed as she finished re-wrapping (Y/n)’s shoulder. She then took care of (Y/n)’s ankle the way Shinobu had suggested and looked at her handiwork with pride. “There all done! Shinobu said you’ll want to keep it elevated and free of strain for at least two weeks.”

“Okay, I’ll rest where I can. Thank you.”

“No no,” Mitsuri made an ‘x’ with her arms and pouted, “none of that, you have to rest!”

“I can’t afford to rest. It’s not easy living in the mountains alone.” (Y/n) informed, her eyes shifted over Mitsuri’s shoulder at the burning embers in her ‘kitchen’, “Could you take that off the heat please?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Mitsuri shot up and stole to the dingy pot, her eyes shined upon witnessing the rich, golden broth up close. “Wow, this looks amazing!”

“I’m glad you think so, the mountains are harsh but there are plenty of resources if you know where to look. Please, help yourself.”

“Thank you so much! Here, let me get you a bowl as well. Food always tastes better with company after all.”

Mitsuri tried to prepare another bowl for (Y/n) but quickly discovered she only had one. It seemed like the more she looked at the place, the sadder it made her. (Y/n) seemed to notice the sudden downtick in the slayer’s mood and spoke up.

“Hey, I’ve got a tea mug I’ll happily drink from if you don’t mind my bad manners.” She laughed, provoking a smile from Mitsuri.

“Of course I don’t mind.”

They ate the broth and fresh bread together as they made small talk and Mitsuri was having a great time. It was rare to get to know someone she rescued like this and being able to see (Y/n) while the sun had not yet fully disappeared she got an opportunity to have a really good look at her.

Mitsuri’s face heated as (Y/n) laughed at something she said and she silently praised the forces at hand that allowed her to make it to her in time. It felt good, so very rewarding, to know such a beautiful soul’s time was not cut short by a cruel end. She wanted to keep it that way.

“Something on your mind, Kanroji-san?” (Y/n) asked, breaking Mitsuri from her thoughts with a start.

“Oh! I, um, I was just thinking about how good your food is! You know, the village down below was having a festival yesterday. I bet you could sell a lot of what you make really quickly if you set up a stall there.” Mitsuri exclaimed before diving back in.

(Y/n)’s face soured a bit at the thought, though she sighed wistfully and a sad smile crossed her lips.

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” She said before taking another sip from her chipped cup.

“Why don’t you go down to the village, (L/n)-san?” Mitsuri asked, her pastel-green eyes gazed at (Y/n)’s downcast face.

(Y/n) stayed silent for a few moments, debating with herself if it was worth delving into her strife with a girl she had only just met the night before and probably wouldn’t see again. At least, she definitely wouldn’t see her again if she were to explain her situation.

“It’s not something I’d really care to discuss. Sorry.” (Y/n) curtly replied.

“No, I’m sorry,” Mitsuri frowned, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. It was an innocent question.” (Y/n) assured, giving Mitsuri’s knee a friendly pat before withdrawing once more.

They continued to talk about anything until the sun disappeared and the stars lit up the night sky and the lanterns were lit to illuminate the hut.

Mitsuri needed to go. The Hashira was reluctant but she wasn’t going to leave (Y/n) completely on her own just yet. She told the mountain dweller she’d come back to check on her in three days time, giggling at the girl’s surprise at the declaration. Mitsuri reasoned that (Y/n) would still need help while she recovered and although she was busy with her duties, she couldn’t in good conscious leave (Y/n) completely on her own. Especially when the girl had a tendency to skip out of much needed rest.

Mitsuri filled her rucksack to her heart’s with (Y/n)’s blessing and set off into the night. She hoped to see improvements in (Y/n)’s health when she returned in a few days.

***

The next visit went well. Mitsuri still had to scold (Y/n) for moving about, but she still, albeit a bit guiltily, heartily ate the meals (Y/n) would prepare for her upon her arrival.

Even after (Y/n) had completely healed, Mitsuri didn’t stop visiting. (Y/n) would always laugh when Mitsuri would show up unannounced, joking that feeding Mitsuri was like feeding a stray cat, she’d always come back for more. (Y/n) was happy for the company though. Very happy.

Mitsuri would also bring little things to make (Y/n)’s shack more bearable, starting with an extra set of dishes so they could properly enjoy a meal together. Before long, they considered themselves close enough to be real friends.

One night Mitsuri came by so late, she had awoken (Y/n) when she knocked on the door. (Y/n) let her in and Mitsuri nearly toppled them both over in her exhaustion.

“Hi,” Mitsuri whispered both shyly and with great exhaustion, “sorry for coming by so late. It’s just been a really long night and I think I’m about to crash any minute now. You were the closest to where I was so...”

“You know better than to think you ever need have an excuse to stop by.” (Y/n) lightly scolded. “Come lay down, are you hungry?” She asked, laying the Hashira down on the new futon that Mitsuri had brought for (Y/n) a couple visits prior.

“I could never say no to anything you make.” Mitsuri smiled, causing a prickly heat to swirl over (Y/n)’s cheeks.

(Y/n) heated up her leftovers and presented them to Mitsuri who ate them with the same vigor she would have if it was fresh.

“So good,” she sighed happily, “really, if this is what you can make in this little hut, I would die of happiness to see what you could do in a proper kitchen.”

“You flatter me, Mitsuri.” (Y/n) smiled shyly. It still gave her butterflies to speak to the demon slayer so familiarly, but it was a good feeling.

“I’m serious, (Y/n)!” Mitsuri swore, “I still maintain that I think you would do very well in the village.”

(Y/n) pursed her lips, which Mitsuri noticed straight away and mirrored before fidgeting with the now empty bowl in her hands.

“Are you ready to talk about that yet? It’s alright if you aren’t.” She hesitantly asked.

(Y/n) would be lying to herself if she thought she wasn’t nervous at the prospect of telling Mitsuri her history with the village, but she found herself wanting to share that part of her story with the sweet woman. Mitsuri had never done anything to hurt her, but that’s what made the aspect of sharing so much more frightening. What if Mitsuri became disgusted with her? Accused her of befriending her with alternative motives? But when (Y/n) met her eyes those doubts quieted and she took a deep shutters breath before blowing it all back out in one harsh breath.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to listen? It might be better if you sleep for the night first.”

Mitsuri seemed more alert already, sitting up fully in the bed and giving (Y/n) her full, undivided attention. “No, I can listen! I want to be able to understand you better and support you in anyway I can! Tell me whatever you are comfortable sharing.”

“Okay,” (Y/n) took another breath, taking a moment to decide how to proceed.

“I was born and raised in that valley, actually. My family owns an inn that doubles as a restaurant to boot.”

“That explains a lot.” Mitsuri commented with a small smile, patting at her full stomach. That earned a chuckle and a nod from (Y/n) before she continued.

“Yeah, my mom started teaching me almost as soon as I could stand on my own. She was strict, but with food that good, she was entitled to that attitude. My father took care of the inn side of things and when he wasn’t doing that, he was drinking his weight in saké.” (Y/n) took note of Mitsuri’s concern and patted her hand while flashing her a reassuring half smile.

“It wasn’t ideal, but that was just life. Incredibly, the business didn’t suffer and he never treated us badly so we saw no need to address it. I didn’t know of any other way of life so I was content where I was. Until...”

“Until what, (Y/n)?” Mitsuri cocked her head to the side.

“Until my parents arranged a marriage for me to be wed to the blacksmith’s son. The union would have brought a large sum of money to my family. The whole village seemed to know about it before I did.” (Y/n) chuckled humorlessly and shook her head while Mitsuri listened, holding herself back from jumping in to ask questions.

“They would talk over me about what I’d wear, who would be invited, even as far as when I should bare a child. I felt like everything I thought I knew was crumbling around me. I hadn’t even talked to the blacksmith’s son before. Even now I don’t recall his name. All I knew was that the idea of marrying him terrified me.”

“Did you tell your parents this?” Mitsuri couldn’t help but blurt, her eyebrows had upturned and creased her forehead.

“Yes,” (Y/n)’s eyes shadowed over as she peered down at her lap, “I admit, the middle of town wasn’t the best place to air my reservations, but they wouldn’t listen to me. They would tell me it was just cold feet or that I was overreacting. Then I had finally had it, and two days before the wedding, I screamed at my mother that I didn’t want to be married to some boy I had never talked to and made a big scene.

She had said then, since I was making such a fuss, that I must have been handing myself out to some other boy while her back was turned and it just made me so mad. I told her there was no other boy, that I didn’t want one.” (Y/n) sighed and pressed her head back against the wall.

“I told her that the only people that I had ever thought of marrying were either the grocer’s eldest daughter or the seamstress’ apprentice who had helped me at my fitting the day prior and then my mother slapped me in front of the whole village.”

Mitsuri gasped, covering her mouth. She was no stranger to the disappointment of a parent, but her parents had never laid a hand on her for any of her failed engagements.

“She was disgusted with me and word traveled fast. The blacksmith called off the arrangement, not wanting his son to have anything to do with my... perversions I think he called them. The grocer refused to sell his produce to my family and kept his daughters inside.

My father, once greatly respected, was humiliated by me and shunned by the whole village. He was furious and drunk which made for a very bad combination as you may imagine. I was severely... disciplined and locked away.

Later that night, I could hear him and my mother discussing selling me to a brothel to be trained as a courtesan. Needless to say, once I believed they were asleep I tore through the paper wall of the room I was trapped in and packed up what I could carry before I escaped into the mountains. I’ve been surviving here ever since.”

As (Y/n) finished her story, Mitsuri sniffed loudly and hiccuped, startling (Y/n) from her memories to try to comfort the demon slayer as she cried for her. Mitsuri pulled (Y/n) into her chest with such ferocity that it cracked the poor girl’s spine.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. You didn’t deserve such treatment!” The Hashira blubbered. “It was awful of me to ever suggest you go back to that terrible place devoid of love and compassion.”

(Y/n) struggled to breath and patted Mitsuri’s back. “Don’t be hard on yourself, you didn’t know. It’s okay.”

Getting all of that out there, having someone to listen and not judge her for her tale, it made (Y/n) feel so much lighter. Mitsuri kept her close and rocked their bodies side to side and how was (Y/n) not going to cry when she hadn’t been treated so tenderly since she was little. Before long, they were both sobbing messes in the corner of a dingy shack in the middle of the mountains.

By the time their bout had subsided into the occasional sniffle or the loud, gross honk of mucus being sucked back up someone’s nose, the girls had migrated to spooning on the futon with one of Mitsuri’s arms wrapped securely over (Y/n)’s side while the the other alternated between lightly scratching at the nape of (Y/n)’s neck and between her shoulder blades. The fit on the futon was tight, but neither seemed to mind.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed, “the night you saved me I was out because there is a cliff that you can see the whole village from. I knew the festival lights would be up and I really wanted to feel the warmth I used to feel at festival season. Figures I’d be attacked by a demon before I even got there.”

“You’re going to make me cry again.” Mitsuri said, her voice coming out a tad nasally because of her stuffy nose.

“I didn’t mean for that to make you sad. I was just going to say I was glad for that night for nothing else other than I got to meet you. Thank you for sticking around, Mitsuri.”

“Now you’re being so sweet I’m gonna cry again!” Mitsuri sniffled, weakly batting at (Y/n) and making her laugh as she apologized.

“I’m glad I met you too,” Mitsuri whispered softly once they calmed down again. Then they finally went to sleep as the sun was rising.

***

“I just— mm! I don’t want her living in that rundown shack anymore. I never did! But now, I think about it all the time and I just can't stand it!” Mitsuri complained to Shinobu as the Insect Pillar tried to concentrate on the medicines she was measuring out.

“I see.” Shinobu answered simply, making a note before giving Mitsuri her full attention, “Well, if she’s as good of a cook as you keep telling me, I’m sure Aoi would be happy for another pair of hands in the kitchens.”

“What?” Mitsuri blinked.

“You know me, Mitsuri. I have a history of taking in young girls who have nowhere to go. I assume that’s why you have been telling me all of this.” Shinobu smiled mischievously, “besides, you make her sound so cute, how could I say no?”

That got a rise out of the Love Hashira.

“You—! You already have a girlfriend!” Mitsuri sputtered her face as pink as her hair at the possibility of Shinobu trying to woo (Y/n). Worse yet, the very real possibility that it would work! Mitsuri knew just how charming Shinobu could be! But thankfully, Shinobu laughed and diffused the state Mitsuri had worked herself into.

“I was only teasing, but she really can live here. I have plenty of room. I just figured you would want to keep her closer. I didn’t realize your estate was operating at full capacity.”

“Wait, say that again.” Mitsuri said, the wheels in her head turning as she tried to work backwards herself.

“(L/n)-san can live here?” Shinobu tried.

“No, after that.”

“I didn’t realize your own estate was running at full capacity. I thought you would want (L/n)-san to live with you.” Shinobu reiterated.

“Ah!” Mitsuri shrieked, making Shinobu wince ever so slightly. Then Mitsuri roughly grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her around a little bit, “You, Kochou Shinobu, are a genius! I can’t believe I hadn’t realized sooner! Thanks for the talk, bye!”

“Take care!” Shinobu saw Mitsuri off, fixing her tousled fringe as she watched the blur of pink, green and white run out of sight around the corner. Deciding she was due for a break, she wandered down the opposite end of the hall to find out what her girlfriend was up to at the moment.

***

By now, Mitsuri knew the mountain like she knew the back for her hand. The delicious scent of sizzling vegetables and meats never hurt either of course. She didn’t even bother to knock before letting herself in.

“I had a feeling you’d come by today.” (Y/n) smiled as she checked over her shoulder, “I’m not sure what it was, but I’m glad it proved true because I definitely made too much food.”

“(Y/n), live with me.” Mitsuri blurted before shyly hiding her face in her hands. How could she ask that so suddenly? Never mind ask, she definitely didn’t even phrase it as a question!

“Huh?” Was all (Y/n) could get out before she forgot how her voice worked.

“Would, would you maybe, possibly consider maybe living with me?” Mitsuri tried again, her voice raised almost to the point of cracking with every word.

“...I wouldn’t want to impose.” (Y/n) nervously replied after a few moments, busying herself by stirring a pot that was in no need of attention.

“You wouldn’t be!” Mitsuri said with more conviction. “I really want you to come with me. I know you are proud of what you have managed to do for yourself, it’s better than anything I could ever make, but the more time passes, I can’t help but hate how you still live in this rundown, rickety, shack that I can clear in four strides!” Mitsuri demonstrated her point by walking from one wall to the other before turning back to (Y/n) with pleading eyes.

“Please, come live with me. I love you and you deserve more than this.”

“La, la, lalala, lov, love... love me?” (Y/n) quickly turned back to her cooking as the fire cracked so loud it made her jump. Why was she acting like this? Mitsuri loved a lot of people, she obviously meant a friendly, platonic kind of love and now she had just made it even more awkward!

But then (Y/n) jolted again when Mitsuri’s strong arms wrapped around her middle and her chin rested against her shoulder. The Hashira hummed an affirmative as she slowly began to rock them side to side. Between the heat of the low fire and the heat of Mitsuri’s front pressed against her back, (Y/n) was sure she was going to pass out.

“Please (Y/n), live with me?” Mitsuri asked softly. She kissed (Y/n)’s jaw as she moved.

“?!??!!” (Y/n) short circuited, lost in Mitsuri’s softness. Mitsuri merely giggled and rested another to (Y/n)’s cheek, then her ear, her temple, until—

“Oh dear!” Mitsuri gasped as (Y/n) fell limp in her arms. “(Y/n), are you alright? Are you sick? Why didn’t you say something? You shouldn’t be up!”

“I, I’m not sick,” (Y/n) mumbled, smoke rolling off of her like a steam boat, “It’s just a lot of touching that I’m not really used to yet.”

“Oh! Should I stop?”

“Gods no.” (Y/n) sighed and gripped onto Mitsuri’s haori so she couldn’t back away.

Mitsuri beamed brightly before resting a kiss over (Y/n)’s forehead and rubbed her back. “Come with me?” She asked again.

“I’d follow you to the bottom of the ocean if you asked.” (Y/n)’s eyes slipped shut as she enjoyed Mitsuri’s scattered kisses.

“Great! I can’t wait for you to meet all my friends! Iguro-san and Kabumaru will love you, Kyoujirou-san too! He’ll love your cooking. Just watch out for Shinobu though, she’s flirty.”

“Okay, I’ll stay vigilant.” (Y/n) laughed.

“Good girl,” Mitsuri nodded, “now let’s pack up all that you hold dear. We should be able to make it to my estate by dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.” (Y/n) nodded excitedly in return. She took the little pail of water from the floor and doused the low flame, “maybe you’d like lunch first though? I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

“Yes! Lunch first and then the beginning of the rest of our lives!” Mitsuri amended, skipping over to the meal (Y/n) had prepared.

As they are together (Y/n) couldn’t help but grin. Mitsuri was right, food really did taste better when sharing it with people you love. The kisses and nuzzles throughout the meal didn’t hurt either.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #kny x reader #mitsuri kanroji #mitsuri kanroji x reader #mitsuri x reader

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arts-and-drafts · 3 years

Text

Linger (Hermit Tommy AU)

(A discussion about scars. This one has been in the bucket for a long time, and it's finally done! Enjoy!!)

TW: Permanent injury, bodily harm, scars, overdose mention

Tommy's in pain.

The hermits mistook his ever tense posture for wariness, his pinched expression seeming only a front to those Tommy distrusted. They hope it will ease with time, and they are patient.

They turn out to be right. Slowly, Tommy gets used to them, relaxes, smiles more and yells less.

But he's still tense, and his face still twists occasionally in what the hermits start to realize is hurt rather than intimidation after completing simple tasks like lifting shulker boxes.

It's False who notices Tommy's not right handed.

He's a damn good fighter, as dirty as his shots are and as rough his technique is. Tommy fights like his life depends on it, and in that situation there's no room for fancy footwork or skillful swordplay. But looking impressive is not a requirement for being good at PVP, and the scuffed up teenager is a prime example of that.

Tommy's scars are evidence that he just encountered someone better.

Besides his crude offensive, False notices he's also clumsy. Tommy always draws his weapon with his left, and yes, he switches to his right as soon as it's in his hand, but as sporadic as Tommy likes to be, that doesn't add up.

False sees him get jumped by a creeper, once, and in the miniscule time alloted to attack, Tommy drew and swung with his left. Instinctually.

False then sees him grimace when the creeper explodes, and he drops his weapon to knead his left shoulder. That is when it clicks.

"Tom." False tries to sound casual on break from sparring with the kid the next day, watching him carefully from her periphery while she feigns busying herself with her water bottle.

Tommy grunts in acknowledgment, and False takes a breath.

"How come you always switch to your right when you're fighting?" She treads carefully. Tommy doesn't like it when the hermits pry, and he definitely doesn't like it when they're as observant of him as False is.

Thankfully, it doesn't look like Tommy reads into the question too much. "I'm right handed." He says simply, and False knows it's a lie, but his nonchalance would absolutely fool her if she didn't know the truth.

Now is when False would normally nod, and change the subject. But Tommy's hurting, and a part of her just can't let that go.

"See, you're not." False says lightly, abandoning all pretense. Tommy tenses next to her, more than he already is.

"You draw with your left. You wouldn't do that if you were right handed. Why don't you fight like that?" False asks. She doesn't grill him on how he got hurt, or why he hides it. She's being risky enough as is with her flat-out asking, and she's not certain she'll get an answer from the kid if she pushes any further.

Tommy swallows, and his left hand flexes unconsciously. "It, uh. Hurts." Tommy says. False waits patiently.

"I got hit. There. By a Wither, y'know." Tommy continues, and False finally feels a different emotion than calm worry. Sympathy and slight horror twist in her chest, and she's thankful she doesn't need to speak so Tommy can keep talking.

But he doesn't talk, and instead pulls off his shirt in the most difficult way possible since he moves his left arm as little as he can. False's eyes widen as blackened skin is revealed, spreading over the poor kid's entire left shoulderblade and down his arm and chest, dangerously close to his heart. If False were to touch it, she'd know the skin would be cold and dead, barely hanging on to Tommy's body anymore.

False lets out a horrified breath instead, feeling as if the wind got knocked out of her lungs.

There is no cure for being withered, if you don't have milk on hand directly after a hit. Those marks stay with you for life.

But Tommy is 16. Tommy has barely started his life, and he's already bearing an injury that will last with him until the end of his time. False feels bile rise in her throat. Whether it's cause of grief or anger, she can't tell. All she knows is that Withers aren't made on accident. There is a story here.

A story she has no right to know.

"Gods, Tommy, I'm--I'm sorry." False utters helplessly, because she just doesn't know what else to say. Tommy stiffens.

"Not your fault." He says curtly, his words edged with a familiar tone of sharpness that he takes when he feels someone is taking pity on him. False scrambles to save the situation.

"Scar's had some run ins with a Wither. Impulse, too." False comments, and pretends not to see Tommy's face flicker in surprise.

"I'm sure they have some tips, if you're interested." False continues, holding back the desperation she feels with every drop of willpower she possesses to not scare Tommy off. "You'd be a much better fighter if you could use both hands." She adds gently, and a wave of relief crashes over her as Tommy's eyes light up with recognition of opportunity.

Tommy utters an eerily mischievous laugh that False can't help but smile at. "Ohhh-ho, I'm gonna be so fuckin' powerful--they call me dual blade Innit!! I'm gonna dual blade your ass!"

False laughs out loud at that, the icy horror in her chest loosening for only a moment. "Void help us." She comments sarcastically. "Go on then, see Scar first. He's got magic crystals that I hear are good to help pain."

Tommy's face flickers, so quickly that False barely sees it before it's gone. But the expression was bare exhaustion, a kind of weariness that False has never really seen before.

False could guess that Tommy's been in pain for most of his life. No wonder he's tired. No wonder he nearly overdosed on gapples for the absorption they provided when exposed to the hermit's infinite supply. No wonder he doesn't move quickly unless he has to.

Several things click into place as Tommy pulls his shirt back over his head, and the conclusion leaves a lead weight in False's gut.

It's not her business to know what happened to this boy barely old enough to attend MCC that gave him lifetimes of scars both inside and out. She knows her fellow hermits who have been her friends for years have secrets they will never share, and she's made her peace with that a long time ago. For Tommy, it's no different.

But as False watches him gingerly make his way down from the top of her base to the portal, she just wants to know why that fate was seemingly a deserving one for a child to bear.

END.

#meraki post #hermit tommy au #tw drug mention #tw injury #tw scars #fond of this one #hermitcraft fic #dream smp fic #kind of

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t4tpolypd · 3 years

Note

What about Hermit!Tommy au where Dream comes to take Tommy back to the Dream SMP and the hermits get very protective when Tommy says no

Tommy knew he couldn’t hide forever. What he didn’t know, is that he wouldn’t be the one to decide how long he stayed.

He had healed quite a bit. He wasn’t afraid of the hermits anymore, he was more used to the end and the like. He could fly quite gracefully as well.

He had a nice little cottage, with building habits courtesy of bdubs and grian. Everything was happy.

___

Tommy was in the process of building a cobblestone shop, when he got a ping on his old communicator. The old one. From the dream smp.

Hesitantly, he opened it up and saw a message from Dream.

“I know you’re alive, Tommy.”

His hands started to shake at seeing just dreams name, and it took him a moment to even process what dream had said. And when he had? Well. He ran to Grian first, and stumbled over his words. He was scared. He didn’t know if Dream even /could/ come to hermit craft, but he needed to be prepared either way.

“GRIAN. GRIAN YOU HAVE TO FUCKING HELP ME!”

“Uhh, ok, what is it?” Grian said, slipping the diamonds he had just collected from the barge into his pockets.

“D-DREAM HE KNOWS,.... HE KNOWS IM ALIVE,.. HE HES GONNA- H-H-HES GOING T-TO” Tommy continued to ramble, yelling too quickly for grian to even be able to process what he was saying.

“Calm down, I can’t understand what you’re saying!” Grian exclaims, handing Tommy a bottle of water.

Tommy breathes for a moment and takes a sip of the water, before being calm enough to choke out two small sentences.

“He’s coming. Dream- dream is coming grian.” Hes says, with a look of terror in his eyes.

Grian did know much about dream. But what he /did/ know, was that he had traumatized Tommy to the point that even the word dream not referring to the man made Tommy hyperventilate.

He was bad,

He was powerful,

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to take Tommy from their grasp.

___

Dream arrived in hermit craft, bringing tubbo, techno, and philza with him. He had tried to coax ghostbur into coming, but he was afraid of becoming Alivebur. He brought techno, who only agreed to come because he had a debt to pay off, and because these so called “hermits” had apparently brainwashed his brother. Or so Dream had said to the dream Smp.

When he arrived, he was surprised to have spawned in a cage of obsidian. He was surprised to see, through small cracks in the obsidian, that everyone was armed.

Tubbo grabbed his pickaxe and dug through the obsidian.

“Tommy! You’re okay, we’re going to get you away from these disgusting hermits!” Tubbo said, walking up to Tommy.

Tommy took a step back, leaving Tubbo confused.

Philza just sighed.

“He’s been brainwashed, Tubbo, what did you excpect.”

“Brainwashed? What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Tubbo seemed relived to hear that.

“Come on Tommy, let’s get you home!” Tubbo said with an outstretched hand.

Techno stood at the back with dream. He wasn’t sure if he should draw his sword, the hermits had their weapons drawn, why should he?

“What..? No, this is my home now? I’m happy here, there’s no war or fighting! Everyone is nice just to be nice! I’m not giving up all my progress, Tubbo.” Tommy said with something between a snarl and look of sympathy.

Tubbo sighed.

“Sorry Tommy, we need to get you home.” Tubbo said trying to grab Tommy.

“We’ll find a way to get you unbrain-washed there.”

Tommy tried to get out of Tubbos grip, but soon Techno, Dream, and Philza were trying to grab him too.

The hermits tried their best, but they weren’t strong enough against a literal god, a children who’s been through multiple wars, a war criminal, and some dad guy with wings.

Tommy knew what he had to do. He had never used rockets on his elytra, to traumatizing, he thought, but they would be way less traumatizing than the dream smp would be.

In one swift movement, he clasped on his elytra, grabbed his rockets, and blasted off.

Philza was the only one who could go after him in the air, seeing as Dreams flying abilities had faltered coming here.

Philza flew after the boy with the rockets, trying to shout things like

“Just come on! We’re gonna help you!”

Until he felt a sharp pain in his wing as he started to fall.

He had been shot.

Tommy breathed a sigh of relief and settled upon a large building.

Joe , only appearing now, had recruited a large army of dogs and sent them out to fight,

It was a whole server against 4 people. You can guess how it ended.

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #dream smp #hermit craft

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 304: The Council of OFA

Previously on BnHA: Hawks and Best Jeanist were all, “what up Todofam, we are here to apply for the positions of ‘son #4’ and ‘weird uncle’, respectively,” and then proceeded to insert themselves into the family drama without waiting for an answer. Hawks briefed Endeavor on the nation’s current status of “totally fucked”, promised to help him sort that out, and then asked him about OFA. Endeavor was all, “oh do you mean One For All, the mysterious thing that my intern Deku was apparently being targeted for?” and then we cut away, presumably before Endeavor could clarify that it never occurred to him to follow up on that, and Hawks was all “no of course not, why would it occur to anyone other than me to follow up on any of this super weird and ominously important shit.” Anyway so meanwhile Bakugou was all “LET ME SCREAM AT DEKU UNTIL HE WAKES UP” and the other kids were all “NO”, and then the chapter ended with All Might being all “I wonder what the vestige!me is currently chatting with Deku about.”

Today on BnHA: Deku drops in on the Vestiges, who are all “sup Deku, how do you like our fancy chairs.” OFA II and III are all “if you need us we’ll just be standing here silently in the corner pretending to be invisible and sparking endless discourse with our mere existence.” OFA IV is all “and now I will explain to you in a very convoluted way that you being quirkless was actually a good thing, since it means that you are probably not going to suddenly drop dead at the age of twenty. But also you’re probably going to be the last user of OFA for that very same reason.” Deku is all “that is wild. I’m just gonna stand here and stare at my hand.” Nana is all “so now that that’s settled could you please do me a small favor and kill my grandson for me”, because having just one topic to discourse about this week WASN’T ENOUGH, apparently. Thanks so much Horikoshi.

(ETA: okay so just a note before I start, this week’s RHA translation was a huge mess, so I followed up this chapter by reading a couple of other translations. the main one I’m using for reference is the one by @hanashimas, whose weekly posts I highly recommend. anyway so you’ll see a couple of ETAs in this post in places where the initial translation was off.)

how many layers of bandages did they wrap this poor kid’s fucking hand in omg

jesus Deku. are you holding onto a bouquet of flowers under that thing?? or a tennis racket??

omg yes, finally

is he reading these names off a teleprompter lol. and if so, what has Jeanist ever done to slight you, Deku? “god bless Kacchan and Aizawa-sensei and Todoroki-kun and everyone else in the whole wide world... except for Best Jeanist. fuck that guy.” actually this joke would be funnier if half of tumblr didn’t legit feel that way lol but anyway

OH MY GOD

I NEED TO HAVE A TALK TOO. ABOUT, OH, EVERYTHING

I got immediate KHR vibes from ALL OF THIS. this is seriously such a Vongola aesthetic. “let’s use the luxuriously cushioned chairs with the seat backs that are ten feet high, and arrange all of the handsome ghost people in a big circle” like come on

that said there are also some slight LoTR vibes as well. “bring forth the ring, Deku”

I like how Six is sitting there with his feet drawn up all casual, but with his arms inexplicably sticking STRAIGHT OUT IN FRONT OF HIM and dangling over his knees like he’s doing some sort of zombie walk

apparently the Fourth wasn’t a big fan of shoes huh

interesting that All Might is the only one who’s still faint/indistinct, and and that Two and Three are fully visible

(ETA: the rest of my speculation about Two and Three has been moved into a separate post, the better to focus on the shit that’s actually happening in this chapter lol.)

and lastly, interesting that all of them are talking now, except for All Might (and I guess the Second and Third as well). to the best of my knowledge Deku hasn’t unlocked the Sixth’s quirk yet, so I guess the quirks don’t really have anything to do with it

oh and it looks like Deku’s mouth is still covered. I guess that’s convenient for the vestiges since we all know it’s hard to stop Deku once he gets going. but on the other hand it’s very inconvenient for people like me who wanted to see some interaction. alas

so First says that OFA’s power has grown a lot in the last four months (i.e. since Deku unlocked Blackwhip), and now the vestiges can communicate with each other as well as Deku

so even when Deku’s not around they can all just chill with each other. this is such a weird thing to me lol. like it’s cool, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also strange as hell to know that you’ve got eight other people hanging out in your head spying on everything you do and having conversations with each other about it. it would be like if Dark Shadow had someone to hang out with other than Tokoyami. good thing you weren’t triplets, Tokoyami

First says that it’s become easier for the vestiges to interact with Deku ever since TomurAFO barged into the OFA Domain back at Jakku. huh

(ETA: apparently this is because AFO forcibly pulled out OFA’s power when he was trying to steal the quirk, so I guess that makes sense.)

okay thank you Banjou for addressing this concern which I initially brought up as a joke, but which was apparently real enough for you to reassure Deku about

“don’t worry, even though we’re awake and hanging out inside of you at all times, we’re definitely not secretly watching and making fun of every single thing you do” hmmmmm

(ETA: “not that you could do anything about it even if we were, since you’re probably going to be the last OFA holder ever!” I don’t trust anything this asshole says lmao.)

OH SHIT??

YESSS DEKU now you can hold them accountable for all of their bullshit! because I do not doubt that there will be bullshit lol but let’s see how that goes

oh damn

well okay then. you didn’t have to stand up and walk over to him and loom all threateningly like that but okay sir

this guy has kind of a Kimimaro vibe to him. remember? that bone-growing guy from Naruto? except I’m pretty sure he had eyebrows. and wasn’t twenty feet tall. speaking of which, that explains the chairs

why are you wearing only 3/5ths of a shirt

lol what

someone’s gonna have to explain this to me. is he just redundant or something lol, or is he strangely poetical or what

(ETA: apparently HE’S MAKING A PUN omg. I immediately gained +10 love for him lol. also it flows a lot better in Japanese. this is one of the things Caleb is usually good at, so we’ll see what he does with the wordplay.)

omg the hermit theory is true!!

“I’M NOT WEIRD, IT’S SOCIETY WHICH IS WEIRD.” lol whatever you say buddy. also love how Banjou tried to give him a big hearty slap on the back but Hermit Boy was not having it lmao

IS HE TRYING TO CAPTURE HIM WITH BLACKWHIP

AND ACTUALLY, NO, SIR, AS A MATTER OF FACT, WE ARE NOT AWARE. SO SPILL!!

?!!?

okay my first response was LOL ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S THE BIG SECRET!? -- and then it hit me what the significance of “died from old age... AT AGE FORTY” meant. at which point it was like “!!!!!” and then “OH, SHIT”

(ETA: there’s also an Iida joke here somewhere but I’m just too tired to make it.)

oh my god oh my god

did he somehow get a copy of the coroner’s report or something? like how does he even know that he died from “old age” as opposed to any number of other natural causes? ??

but anyway. so this is the quirk singularity coming into play then I guess. but then how come All Might is still alive and ticking?

(ETA: so this is one example of where this week’s translation is a mess lol. apparently the Fourth explains here that he didn’t know what the fuck he died from until All Might researched it. and it turns out there actually was an autopsy lol so there you go.)

so Fourth says he held OFA for eighteen years, and since he knew he would never be strong enough to defeat AFO on his own he basically just spent all his time punching rocks in the woods and training to power the quirk up

oh shit

is he implying that his body literally fell apart?? like that’s how he got the scars on his face? -- IS THAT WHAT KEEPS HAPPENING TO TOMURA, THEN. oh shit

DUDE

so you’re telling me that this quirk actively shortens the lifespan of anyone who uses it?? and my little boy here has had it now for a year already?? fuck me, I have immediately have a TON of thoughts about all this but let me save it until he’s done with his explanation

THANK YOU, DEKU

right?? how come All Might didn’t die then. even after he got injured. please don’t tell me he actually is dying still and is just being slow about it because I SWEAR TO GOD

what does this mean??

so what you’re trying to say is you all have NO FUCKING IDEA how long Deku’s gonna be able to hold this quirk before he SUDDENLY DROPS DEAD?! five generations ago this dude was able to hold it for eighteen years, and then four generations later All Might was able to hold it for thirty-odd years or so, and now Deku has it and you all have no clue which way it’s gonna go? actually this makes it sound like it really wasn’t OFA that killed the Fourth at all and you guys are just really bad at forming hypotheses. but since you’re making a big plot point out of it I guess it must be true

and don’t think I didn’t notice the part where you said you didn’t have OFA very long and then “died while fighting”, Firsto. I want to hear more about that. specifically who you passed the quirk onto before your death

and yes, if we are agreeing that OFA was the cause of the Fourth’s death, then the conclusion on this next page is the natural one to draw

so that’s a bit of a relief then, because Deku is quirkless too. so it means he won’t be able to hold OFA forever (and will probably have to find another quirkless person to pass it on to), but at least he won’t be randomly dying out of the blue next Tuesday or something

oh my god now he’s talking about OFA and AFO and user consciousnesses and all sorts of good theory stuff but it’s so much exposition. you’re really gonna make me read all this lol

wait what. why would All Might being quirkless have anything to do with the presence of his vestige in OFA Outer Space Party Land

but Deku is also quirkless and he’s clearly visible and chatting with you guys. so what gives. like how much of this is verified fact and how much of it is you guys just shrugging and making stuff up lol

SERIOUSLY, GUYS

BUT DEKU IS ALSO -- you know what, never mind sob. none of this shit makes any sense but whatever

(ETA: seriously, this all seems like an awful lot of speculation on their part. for Deku’s sake I sure hope they’re right.)

FSSKDJFLSKLKJLKJL ALL MIGHT IS FIFTY-FIVE?!

lol that’s a full ten years past my closest estimate, wow. but this pretty much confirms his age now at last! or at least confirms it within a couple of years, because we know All Might and Nana met when he was in middle school, and he presumably had the quirk by the time he took the U.A. entrance exam. so yeah. gonna go with fifty-five

so they think that because All Might was quirkless, OFA was better able to adapt to his body and became his true quirk, as opposed to being an extra quirk that stacked on top of the one he already had and overwhelmed him. ties in back to the whole “AFO used to bend people to his will by forcing quirks on them” thing, as well as the “Noumus are all mindless because of the strain of having multiple quirks”

Two and Three are really ruining the serious vibe of this scene here lol

they look like they’re doing the counting for hide and seek

and is this Deku talking now? I was about to get mad at First for implying that quirkless people are somehow freaks, as opposed to “normal” people jdslk

so in other words, don’t go giving it to your best friend all casually for shits and giggles, Deku. even if it would make a really cool climax for a movie. well shit. maybe that’s why they were so quick to nope back into Deku’s body afterward

so First says that because quirkless people are becoming rarer and rarer, the fact that All Might just happened to stumble upon Deku is “nothing short of a miracle.” which, yeah, that was definitely a stroke of luck there. being quirkless saved his life. but being quirkless is also part of why he was chosen in the first place, and we’ve always known that much

“in other words, kiddo...”

looks like there was some hurried clone stamp usage going on here lol. but props to RHA as always for putting this scan out so fast, especially given how exposition-heavy this week’s chapter has been

“anyways, that was the main topic” ARE YOU SERIOUS. there are like ten other topics imma need you all to get to here, people

(ETA: seems like this is a mistranslation; the line should actually read something more along the lines of “and now for the main topic.”)

FFFFFFFFF

“ENJOY YOUR CLIFFHANGER THIS WEEK.” dskfalkjlkjwlgkjl you really went and dumped this discourse on us yet again. fucking...

(ETA: forgot to mention, but as several people mentioned, this seems to be another mistranslation -- rather than asking Deku to kill Tomura as though it’s doing her a personal favor, Nana is asking “will you be able to do it.” in other words more of an “are you capable of doing it” type of thing. which is a very reasonable question to ask given that Deku is, well, Deku.)

anyways, and the answer is obviously going to be “no” of course. this isn’t going to end any differently than when the previous Avatars all told Aang to kill Ozai. but I guess it means we’re in for a fun conversation next week

so Nana looks pretty grim here though (nothing at all like the person who once taught All Might the importance of saving people with a smile), and I’m wondering if this means she believes that her grandson is already beyond saving. as in killing him would be a mercy, as opposed to him continuing to live with AFO bending his mind and body to his will. except if that is the case, I think she’s underestimating Tomura’s own will. and definitely underestimating Deku’s will to save

and also, just... I’m so fucking sick of AFO screwing the Shimura family over, honestly. this is exactly what he wanted. well fuck you, guy. you don’t get to have what you want. go out there and save Tomura, Deku. for his sake and for Nana’s. give them some hope. do your thing, boy. can’t wait for your big speech all about it next chapter lol

#bnha 304 #midoriya izuku #all might #ofa prime #ofa iv #idk what his name is I forgot it already lol #the actual forty-year-old man #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #ofa the first

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crowtrinkets · 3 years

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Analysis of Vesuvia :) pt 3A Underground Tunnels

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3B

Alright my friends here's the big one I had to break it into two parts its so big lol

Ok so we all wanna know, how the heck are there under ground tunnels if Vesuvia is surrounded by canals? And I am here to hopefully answer that question

So first of all referencing this post once again, @mangoeclipse said that there are catacombs along the Via Casillina road. So this brought me to the Catacombs of Marcellinus and Peter, named after Christian Martyrs Marcellinus and Peter who were supposedly buried in here

Not really relevant to my points but I thought some history and context on catacombs would be interesting :)

There is not a lot of info I could find on them other than info about the art, which depicts Christian and Pagan imagery (because Christians had to meet in catacombs to avoid persecution)And according to our lord and savior Google maps its pretty far from the coast so unfortunately it wont help in this case

Now let us return to our beloved map of Vesuvia, cropped for convenience

So, based off this image it seems that the mouth of a river runs through the castle and through the aqueducts and down into the canals of the city. But I am speculating that the river actually goes around the castle and it just looks odd because the drawing has very little detail. Why do I think this you ask? The Palace grounds are quite large, take Portia’s cottage for example.

Why Portia’s cottage you ask? Oh yknow

You can see the Palace in the background, and judging by this image alone the palace is HUGE meaning the grounds are quite large as well. Its far enough away that Guards rarely come around and it is far enough away that people could seek refuge at the cottage while the palace was quite literally falling apart in Portia’s route.

Now if we take context from in game it further proves just how large the Palace grounds are. It’s big enough the hold a huge maze of gardens, and Portia’s cottage which on it’s own has a large garden as well. They are big enough to house a menagerie (which I think its outside I’m not sure), stables, and enough room to host possibly a few thousand people for the masquerade

Now onto the tunnels

Usually the Apprentice makes their way into the tunnels at ground level (via the library or other portals in the walls) and ascends down to the creepy elevator correct? Hmmm well maybe not so because I came across something that’ll probably make y’all as just as confused as it did me.

In Portia’s route, Book 9: The Hermit, when the Apprentice and Portia are in the dungeons, shall we shall we call them, and they lock themselves in Julian’s office. The Apprentice finds a portal in the wall and pulls both them and Portia through it and where do they end up? Outside, on the Palace grounds

*pause for confused stares*

If the portals work as doorways why would they end out outside if they are under ground so to speak? Unless the portals are more complicated than they seem, then either

A. The underground tunnels are not as fully underground as we thought, and maybe act as an above ground basement? (if those exist)

B. The portals act as literal magical portals and transport a person from point A to point B no matter the distance, and do not act as a doorway as we saw demonstrated inside the palace

or C. This was just a mistake and overlooked detail, which is entirely possible.

Now depending on which theory you find more suitable it can really change the course of where this post is going.

If you agree with A, then the reason the canals work with the underground tunnels, the answer is simply that the tunnels are actually above ground. Which is kind of confusing.

However if you agree with point B then the answer I have fallen onto is that, the Palace is on top of a hill, and the only water surrounding it are the aqueducts and the moat below it. so it would make sense why the underground tunnels do not interfere with the canals, simply because the palace sits above the canals not allowing for direct interference

Here is a hopefully not confusing diagram I drew onto the map to try and help explain my point.

So if were looking at this from left to right, I am imagining the Palace is actually sitting on raised ground, sloping down until it reaches the Palace and the aqueducts and then it drops. Which would make sense why there are aqueducts surrounding it. Even on the Arcana wiki it says “Vesuvia is the main setting for the Arcana Game. A city-state built into a cliff by a Mediterranean-like sea”

We know that Vesuvia is full of stairs and pathways that lead up to the gates of the Palace which sits atop a hill. and the aqueducts work around the palace and lead down to the canals. And these pictures kind of proves that Vesuvia has a lot of ups and downs all leading to the palace. The places closer to the coast are at sea level and it slowly ascends upwards.

Hey, yknow what other place is sitting ontop of water? But is also surrounded by hills and mountains? Thats right Mexico City

The mythology around Mexico city goes that the Aztecs, or the Mexica (Meh-shee-ka) as they called themselves, were told by their god or patron diety Huitzilopochtili (weet·see·luh·powch·tuh·lee) to go on a migration until they saw a sign from him, and to them that sign was an eagle sitting on a cactus that was growing on a rock in the middle of a lake. And thus Mexico City was established on that lake and built upon. So, more evidence of a city on top of water AND with hills surrounding it to boot

here's a video talking about the Mexica in a little more detail :)

I have now run out of the max images I can place in this post and I have more I want to talk about so I will now direct you to part B in part 3B linked at the top of this post

#i started this at 1 am after finishing my art history hw on Aztecs so Mexico city is on my mine lmao #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana vesuvia #vesuvia #art history #architecture #crow talks art history

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

Alright, I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while and I finally wrote it. Bird brain Grian hours time! Gonna do a few more short writing pieces, but then I got an idea for a multi chapter fic.

Grian groggily woke up. For whatever reason, he couldn’t get to sleep the night before. He wanted to just curl up and go back to sleep, but there was something keeping him from doing that. Or rather, someone. Professor Beak was chirping loudly and keeping Grian up. The avian tried to muffle the noises with a pillow, but he had little luck.

“Okay! Fine!” Grian finally got out of bed after more chirping. “What do you want?” The parrot flew over to the door of Grian’s bedroom, it currently shut. Grian groaned, but opened the door and let the parrot fly out. Not thinking he could get back to sleep, Grian followed behind letting his wings drag on the floor.

As he made himself a simple breakfast of toast, Grian watched as Professor Beaks flew out of the mansion, and then eventually return with another parrot. Being an avian, it was easy enough for Grian to tell the parrot wasn’t tamed, but he wasn’t really looking for a new pet, so he wasn’t going to tame it.

When Grian finished his breakfast, he grumbled at the situation past him had put him in, now needing to preen his feathers after dragging his wings on the floor. He went outside to not leave feathers everywhere in his kitchen, then started working. It didn’t take too long, so before the sun had risen much, Grian was out flying to the shopping district. His first stop was the barge, making sure to restock and put away his earnings. At least most of it. After the barge, Grian headed over to Aqua Town to buy from some of the shops there.

When he went into the Moo-Pop cafe, Grian was a little surprised to see Scar was currently there. Glad to see another hermit, the avian made a beeline over to the mayor. “Hi Scar!”

Scar looked up from his communicator. “Oh hey Grian! How are you doing.”

Grian shrugged, his wings opening a bit. “To be honest, a little tired. I didn’t really sleep well last night. I was hoping visiting the shopping district would help wake me up.”

“And did it work?”

“I’m not feeling completely awake, but it did help.”

Scar smiled. “Well that’s good to hear.”

Grian nodded, then moved so he could look over Scar’s shoulder. “So, who are you messaging?”

“Hmm? Oh, Bdubs was going to meet me. I’m setting up something so we can sell more land for Aque Town.”

Grian ignored the urge he had to frown. “That sounds nice!”

“Yeah. I’ve already built something for it. It’s- Grian, could you close your wings?”

Grian was confused for a second before looking behind himself and found his wings fully spread. He quickly closed them, giving an apology. “Sorry Scar. Didn’t realize I had done that. Maybe I’m more tired than I thought.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” And then Scar pointed out the giant statues of him and Bdubs, explaining his idea of the Land Games.

Grian listened intently, giving Scar his full attention. He would have listened longer, but the sudden addition of a new voice made Grian jump. Bdubs had arrived.

The avian moved out of the way to let Scar join Bdubs, watching as the two walked outside. Grian stood in place for a bit before walking outside and getting into the air, shopping trip completely forgotten. While flying, he realized his hands were currently clenched into fists. He relaxed then and found his nails had dug into his palms, breaking the skin a bit.

Grian shook his head. Obviously he was still out of it. Flying hadn’t worked and obviously he wasn’t paying attention to pain. The next option was to splash water in his face, but the ocean was all salt water. But then he saw the large turquoise building in the middle of the ocean, and the mini water park on top.

With a flap of his wings, Grian managed to make it over to the top of Pacific and dive into the water. He knew he would probably be stuck up there for a bit now that his wings were wet, but the sudden cold water seemed to finally wake him up.

Grian just floated on his back, spreading his wings to help him keep afloat. He stared up at the sky, watching the clouds go by. The chlorine made the new cuts on his hands sting just a little bit, but since he hadn’t cut them deep enough to draw blood, it wasn’t too bad.

The avian wasn’t sure how long he was floating there, but a voice suddenly made him look up. “Grian? What are you doing here?”

Mumbo was looking down at Grian, standing on the edge of the pool. “Oh, hi Mumbo!” Grian said, smiling and glad to see a friend. “Didn’t sleep well and thought the water would wake me up. It did but now I don’t want to get out and have to deal with my wings.”

“Well, just so you know Iskall and I are supposed to have a meeting today. I doubt we’ll be up here, but you should probably have a heads up.”

Grian frowned, but he couldn’t tell why. Was it because he didn’t want to have to leave? That was probably it, that’s all. “Alright, well if you need me to move, just say the word.”

It turned out they didn’t need to use the roof, so it was perfectly okay for Grian to stay. And he would have, but hearing the conversation from the floor below him got on his nerves, for the avian got out of the pool and shook his wings out. He couldn’t fly with them in their current state, but he was at the very least able to glide. There weren’t many places in gliding distance, so Grian ended up back at the shopping district.

The avian ended up wandering back into Aque Town, mainly since there were so many plots of land nearby. Free open spaces, right in the sun, perfect for if you needed to dry something. Technically he could also go in the nether, but that was only really for emergency situations since the dimension was so dangerous.

Grian flopped down in an empty plot of land and spread his wings out, taking in the warmth of the sun. He just sat there, basking in the sunlight, wondering if maybe he could catch up on sleep right there, when he heard voices getting closer. Opening a single eye, he watched as Scar and Bdubs were coming closer to where he was resting. Another look showed him a trough of water that probably wasn’t there before, so that was likely involved with whatever they were doing.

Even though the two of them were being a bit loud, Grian just didn’t feel like moving yet again. Fortunately, it seemed that the two of them were more focused on whatever they were doing that they didn’t really notice Grian. The avian curiously watched them build up with scaffolding up past where Grian could see without craning his neck up.

Grian almost just closed his eyes again, but then he heard Bdubs shouting. “I don’t even see it- Oh I see it! I see it!” And then there was a crunch as Bdubs crashed into the ground. Bdubs of course respawned nearby, a bed having been set up, so he was fine, so Grian didn’t feel bad at all for laughing at what happened.

The laughter caught Bdubs and Scar’s attention, making them finally notice Grian. “Oh hey, what are you doing around here?”

Grian flapped his wings slightly. “Needed to dry these out. This was close, sunny, and open ground, so it was perfect for that. I’m guessing this is part of those land games you mentioned?”

“Yeah, right now we’re sort of competing to see who gets to sell what plot. We’re actually fighting on the one you’re in right now.”

Grian smirked before asking a question. “Does the winner get me as a prize too?”

“You know what? If you’re offering, sure!” Scar joked along. From there, Grian watched as the mayor proceeded to climb up and also splat himself on the ground.

Next Bdubs went again, And Grian found himself wanting him to miss the pool of water, which he did. Following that Scar first managed to fall off the scaffolding, but then also fail the jump, making Grian frown. The competing pair wondered if it was a bit too hard and made the trough bigger, but still Bdubs failed his next jump.

As Scar climbed the scaffolding once more, Grian watched, actually watching him get to the very top. He could just barely hear the mayor counting down before he jumped and then finally landed in the water. He cheered a bit and the plot of land was marked with some orange wool, Grian getting up and finding his wings only slightly damp at this point.

The avian watched as a platform was set up out of stone. The next competition was just going to be a fist fight, so Grian sat to the side closer to Scar. Since he was a third party, Grian was asked to start the match for them. “Alright, the feat of slapping strength! Go to your sides. Ready? Three, two, one, go!”

Grian watched as the two started slapping each other. Scar was calm during the match while Bdubs seemed much more nervous. As it got to the end of the battle, Bdubs started panicking, worried he would lose, but instead, Scar lost all his hearts first, respawning in the nearby bed. Scar looked away in shame while Bdubs bragged, neither of them watching as Grian got up from where he was sitting. The avian’s vision had blacked out, his body going on autopilot.

The next thing the avian knew, he was looking down at Bdubs, who was now unconscious on the ground, and his hands felt sore, the fingers currently curled into fists. He looked around, confused and trying to figure out what just happened. Scar was to the side, looking scared of Grian, which didn’t make the avian feel any better. He went to look back at Bdubs, but for a moment, he saw someone else.

“Oh my god! Grian what did you do?!”

“H-He was getting too close. He might have hurt you! You’re the mayor after all!”

“I’m only mayor because I was the only candidate left.”

“Yes, and obviously he’s upset about that and he-”

“Grian stop. You’re… you’re acting like he did…”

Grian looked at his hands. He had done this to Bdubs. He had hurt his friend. The avian jumped slightly as Scar started to say something, but immediately Grian panicked and flew into the air, heading towards his mansion. He messed up again, and the only thing that worked last time was staying away, so he would have to do that again.

It had only been a day since anyone saw Grian last. Normally that wouldn’t be too concerning, but news of what had happened in Aque Town had spread from Scar trying and failing to message Grian and ask what had happened. Because of that, everyone was a bit concerned for him.

Grian wasn’t answering any messages that got sent his way, having turned his communicator off completely. The only company he had was Professor Beak and his new friend. They were fun to watch, but also made Grian feel worse about having to stay away from everyone. But it would only be for a few days until he felt better, that was all.

But then Grian heard voices. “He’s not in this room either. Are we sure he’s even staying here at this point?”

“Xisuma said this was where his communicator was last active. Even if he’s not here, we should still be looking for that.”

Grian recognised Iskall and Mumbo’s voices. Half of him was glad to hear his friends, but at the same time, he was silently freaking out. What if one of them came in and he hurt them? He didn’t even want that to happen to Bdubs, so a second person was definitely not something he was after.

The only thing Grian had going for him staying hidden was the fact he had made a secret room to stay in. There weren’t any doors for them to look in, and the only window was there for the parrots to go in and out of. There was no way they would find-

“Is that Professor Beak? Where’s he going?” Iskall asked.

“He might be going to Grian, so we should probably follow behind.” Mumbo replied, and then Grian could hear as they started getting closer. The avian quickly looked around to see if he had any blocks to quickly plug up the hole, make it so the parrot couldn’t get in.

Grian carefully opened some chests, doing his best to stay quiet while also in a rush. Finally, he managed to find some left over from when he made the place and then flew up to the hole. He was glad to get there before Beak, closing the window, and then gliding back down to his bed. Now all he could do was wait.

Grian covered his mouth to make sure he didn’t make any noises as Mumbo and Iskall’s footsteps came from the other side of the wall. There was a bit of squawking from the other side of the wall as well as some scratching. At the very least it sounded like Professor Beak was at the wrong part of the wall, so if they broke in, they wouldn’t find him.

Still listening, it sounded like they thought Beak was just being an odd bird and weren’t going to follow him. Grian wanted to sigh in relief, though he still needed to stay quiet. Mumbo said something which made it seem he and Iskall were going to leave, but then Grian realized his mistake. The parrot Professor Beak had been with was still in the hidden room, and when it realized its friend was missing, it started squawking loudly.

Grian flew up to grab the parrot and force it to shut up, but it just flew away, making the avian struggle to grab it. He was panting by the time he finally grabbed the bird, but that alone seemed to work, until suddenly Beak was flying around him angrily. Grian swatted at him to try and get the parrot to leave him alone, but then stopped when someone spoke.

“Grian? Is this where you’ve been?” Grian looked over to where Iskall and Mumbo had broken through the wall, having heard the other parrot enough to find the source, Grian’s attempts at trying to catch it just helped, as he wasn’t that quiet.

Grian let go of the other parrot, and they flew away with Professor Beak, Grian considering flying off after them. “Y-Yes. Now go away.”

“No, are you okay? We heard about what happened with-” Iskall started to say before they were cut off.

“That’s exactly why you should leave!” Grian shouted at them. “So get out!”

Mumbo and Iskall looked at each other before leaving the room, Grian just watching the newly made entrance and trying to unpuff his wings. There was some whispering from the pair, which didn’t help calm Grian down. And It really didn’t help when they walked back in. “Okay Grian, Xisuma told us we should take you to Doc.”

“I don’t need to go anywhere! What I need is to stay right here!” Grian argued. He wanted to say more, but while he was focused on yelling at Iskall, Mumbo snuck up behind him and suddenly wrapped him in a blanket. Grian struggled a bit, but Iskall quickly came over and before long, Grian was wrapped up in the blanket like a burrito, finding it surprisingly calming. Since he still hadn’t slept well, it wasn’t long before the avian fell asleep in the blanket as he was carried away.

He was next aware of things as something nudged his side a few times, making him wake up with a slight trill, trying to move his wings, but he was still wrapped up and couldn’t move them. “You with us Grian?” Grian half nodded, feeling sort of like there was cotton stuffed in his head, making the voice a bit muffled, but he still recognized it as Doc. “Alright, open your mouth.”

Grian opened his mouth, and then something was put in and under his tongue. “Close your mouth.” Grian complied and then just sat there before there was some beeping from whatever had been put there. “Alright, temperature seems maybe a little high. That could just be from the blanket though, but we should still keep an eye on it.”

Grian felt himself being moved and then he was freed from the blanket. “So can you tell what’s wrong?” That sounded like Mumbo.

“Not yet. Theoretically there’s nothing that seems like it could be causing the problem since he was violent before locking himself away. What exactly happened with Bdubs?”

“That’s something you should ask Scar or Bdubs himself.” Iskall answered. “We weren’t there.”

“You weren’t?” Doc sounded confused. “Then can one of you see if Scar could come here. He might have a better idea of what’s going on.”

“Right, I’ll do that.” Mumbo spoke, and Grian made a sad noise before Doc patted his head.

“Don’t worry, he’s not leaving.” The creeper hybrid reassured Grian. “Looks like this year’s hitting you hard, huh?”

The question just left Grian confused, but before he could ask anything Mumbo spoke up. “Scar’s on his way over here. It shouldn’t be too long.”

“Right. By the way, where was Grian set up?”

“Er, well he had a room in his mansion.” Mumbo answered.

“Alright, so that’s probably not it either.”

“What does that tell you?” Iskall asked. “I mean, I thought it would be the obvious answer.”

Doc shrugged. “I mean, it would be, but that’s why I needed to ask. If he were somewhere else, that location might have been unfavorable and helped cause this.”

Grian half paid attention from there, half letting instinct take over because it felt easier. At the same time, his head still felt stuffed, so when he tried walking when everyone was looking away for a few moments, he ended up on the ground. He was given a glass of water after that, which helped his head a bit, and around a minute later, Scar finally arrived.

“Alright, so what exactly did you need me for?” Scar asked, Doc giving an answer. “Oh, Bdubs and I were in Aque town dividing up land to sell. Grian was there and watched us. We did a slapping battle for one section of land which I lost and then Grian suddenly started attacking Bdubs.”

“Right, I’m guessing that’s the big problem. Mumbo, Iskall, do either of you want to explain it?”

The pair just looked at each other confused. “Explain what exactly?” Iskall asked, having no clue.

“About Grian.” Doc supplemented, but there was still confusion.

“Doc, we came here because we don’t know what’s up with him.”

The hybrid sighed. “Okay, we don’t know exactly about the violent part, but I was talking more about the partner part.”

There was silence for a moment. “What are you talking about?”

“Wh- I’m sorry did you think this only happened once?”

“Once?” Mumbo asked, sounding even more confused.

Doc rubbed his forehead. “Alright, a year ago today, what were you guys doing?”

“I was working on my base. I think also doing my villager district around that time?” Mumbo answered first.

“I was also working on my base.” Iskall answered, and then they looked over at Scar.

“I killed Cub.” Everyone sort of stared at Scar. “What? It was the head games and I managed to hit him while flying and then kill him. His head was worth a lot of points and I didn’t think I could get a pvp kill so I really remember it.”

“Ah! I’m glad you brought that up. Alright, so likely he’s dealing with the fact that all of you were busy this time.”

“Doc” Mumbo spoke up. “You seem to think we have some clue of what’s going on, but all of us are completely confused. Can you explain it like we know nothing at all?”

Doc sighed. “Alright fine, maybe that will make you remember.” He gestured to Grian. “Grian is an avian, specifically a parrot hybrid.” He paused to make sure they were all following along. “Hybrids often show traits from the animal they are a hybrid of, me being a good example.” The other hermits nodded. “While they’re usually adapted because of hybrids being more human than mob, traits will line up. Currently, it’s around the time of year where parrots are looking for someone to be their… partner in a sense and-”

Iskall cut Doc off. “And Grian’s doing that?!”

“Uh, yes. I thought you would be aware from season six but-”

“Hold on, I’m still a bit lost.” Mumbo spoke up, also cutting Doc off.

“Scar, please tell me you know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t have the slightest clue.” Scar replied, making Doc groan.

“Alright, I think we found the problem.” Doc said, sounding frustrated. “It’s that you three are all idiots. Long story short, when the bird species an avian belongs to have their mating season, the avians will be clingy and need companionship. I’m not sure how none of you noticed last year or the year before, but obviously, you somehow missed it and helped him at the same time.”

Before any of the trio of other hermits could ask any more questions, Grian was the one to speak up. “What are you talking about?”

Doc was quiet for a few moments before making some hissing noises that everyone was pretty sure were curses. “Grian, how do you not know that? What did you think was going on last year?”

“Last… year?” Grian tried thinking back, but he didn’t remember anything. “This didn’t happen last year. It hasn’t happened since Evo.”

“Ah, that would make this even more of a problem. You’re repressing mob traits. To be completely honest, this explains a lot.” Doc pulled Mumbo a bit closer to him and Grian’s wings puffed up. “Yeah. Your instincts are more pronounced which is making you a bit more violent.” Then he pulled Mumbo closer to himself, Grian’s wings puffing up in response. “He’s gotten to the point where the more feral side of him is trying to take control and further repression is making him violent. For now, I suggest taking him back to his mansion, give him plenty of blankets, stay nearby, and keep hermits he gets upset at or they could end up in a similar situation to Bdubs.”

“Anything else we should know?” Mumbo asked, feeling a little concerned for his friend.

“Oh definitely, but I’d like Grian to be more lucid for it, so I’m just giving the necessary information and you can come back here in a few days for the whole thing.”

“Wait, did you say a few days?” Scar asked, sounding a little concerned.

“Up to five depending on how bad Grian’s mob side is, but probably it’ll only be two or three days. Think of it like… a long slumber party where you’re hostages to a parrot.”

“That doesn’t make it better.” Iskall spoke up, but then Doc started pushing them out the door along with Scar, Grian and Mumbo.

They weren’t able to get far though, since Doc ignored his own advice and just made Grian upset. He pulled away after a few moments, but even then, that didn’t seem to work. That confused Doc a bit since obviously Grian had been protective of Scar with Bdubs and Mumbo with him. Though Iskall… Doc pulled Iskall away which seemed to help Grian. “Huh, guess I was wrong about that.”

“About what?”

“I thought since you three were so close last season, Grian would want Iskall around, but I guess that’s not the case.” Doc explained.

“Well I guess that means at least one of us can work on Pacific.” Iskall shrugged.

“Message me if you need anything about it.” Mumbo said before looking to Scar. “Well, I guess you and I are going to be hanging out for a bit, now aren’t we?”

“I guess so. Let’s get Grian back to his place.”

When they first got back to the mansion, Grian still seemed nervous about the whole thing, trying to lock himself away. Mumbo and Scar did their best to reassure him, and listening to Doc’s advice, they found some blankets.

The way Grian reacted had Scar laughing as he compared it to when Jellie saw a toy to go after. Grian had almost immediately pounced on the blankets and started forming them into some sort of nest before dragging Mumbo and Scar into it against their will. Since neither of them had wings, Grian instead groomed them by keeping their hair and clothes tidy. Mumbo did his best to reciprocate by helping to preen Grian’s wings, also showing Scar how it was done since he had little clue on what to do.

Because it was really just the three of them, Grian didn’t have many problems other than him worrying about himself. The worst was after a day into their hanging out that Jellie came looking for Scar and was not expecting what was essentially a five foot tall bird attacking her. The only injuries were a few scratches that the cat gave Grian, but some bandages quickly patched him up and he seemed to like the care that he was given from it.

It also seemed the scuffle helped Grian out, making him more lucid, instincts calming down a bit. He still felt a bit protective of Mumbo and Scar, but for the most part it was just him complaining as they stepped away to grab something to eat or just needed to stretch. And if Scar kept getting out, that was just because his bones get stiff easily, not at all because he liked watching how dramatic Grian got at him being two blocks away. Not at all.

“Grian, you’re fine. Scar is right there.”

“Nooo! He’s abandoned me! I’m unloved! I have no friends!” Grian complained, flopped on top of the blankets.

Mumbo patted Grian’s head. “That’s not true. I’m here too, aren’t I?”

“But you’re almost always around. This is different.” Grian pouted. “Besides, I have two hands! I can hold yours but also someone else’s. Like Scar’s.”

That left Mumbo a little flustered, especially as Grian took his hand and also grabbed towards Scar. Scar reluctantly moved close enough for Grian to grab him, surprised as he was suddenly yanked down and landed face first into a pile of blankets. Grian gave a chirpy laugh before trapping Mumbo and Scar in blankets before squeezing himself in there and wrapping the pair in his wings before settling down to nap. The pair tried to escape, but had little luck, and ended up stuck in the blankets and wings.

They weren’t as tired as Grian seemed, since he still hadn’t quite caught up with his missed sleep, so the two of them chatted for a bit, sharing plans and ideas. Still, in such a position with not much to do, already buried in blankets, it wasn’t long before they also nodded off.

Because he went to sleep first, Grian was the first to wake back up. He was finally feeling well rested and back to his normal self. He especially felt back to his normal self when he saw Scar lying there, making a smirk creep onto his face. Grian carefully pulled himself away, not wanting to wake the other two hermits. Then he crept over to a window and looked out, finding there were still chests sitting on the hill behind his mansion near the cows Zedaph left behind. Everything was in place, all except for Scar.

Grian moved back over to the pile of blankets and did a few stretches to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. He was pretty strong from always carrying building supplies and climbing all over the place to actually build, but just being an avian made him somewhat weaker than a normal human, his bones more like a birds to make it easier for him to fly. But despite all that, he was pretty strong, which is why he was easily able to lift Scar above his head and hold him there.

Scar woke up suddenly from being moved. “Hey! What’s going on?!”

“You still have to do the back of the mansion Scar! And you’re here right now so I’m putting you to work!”

“Nooo! Grian why?! I was just here to help you!”

“And now you can help out more. There’s already supplies down there, so just go until they’re all used up.” Grian said as he took Scar to the supplies, the mayor jokingly complaining the whole way there. Mumbo, who had been woken up by the scuffle, followed the pair outside with a yawn to see what exactly was going on. When Scar saw the redstoner, he pleaded for Mumbo to help, but he just watched as Scar worked on terraforming with some help from Grian.

Mumbo didn’t do much for a bit, letting Scar build for a bit before going down to stop them. “Alright, while I’m sure neither of you want to stop right now-” Mumbo paused from Grian snickering. “-Doc did want us to meet up with him again when Grian was feeling better, so we should probably do that. I’ve already messaged him and he says he’ll be at his base when we arrive.”

“Can’t we stay a little longer?” Grian pleaded, though Scar was ready to go.

“Nope, I’m sure this is really important. Much more important than the mansion.” Grian pouted a little, but then followed Mumbo and Scar to Doc’s base to visit the scientist.

“Yeah, it looks like Grian’s doing fine now.” Doc said as he finished giving the avian a check up. “It looks like the whole problem was mob trait repression, I had just never seen it that severe. Though that could also be the only case I’ve seen is from myself. I could barely deal with a few months, I’m surprised Grian was able to go years.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Grian asked. “I mean, I’m obviously bad enough on my own and I’m just an avian, I can’t imagine trying to deal with being a creeper hybrid.”

“See, that’s part of the issue. You’re not supposed to be acting violent like that unless you’re repressing traits. Think of it like trying to cage an animal. When they don’t want to be locked up, they’ll do what they can to get out. Being an avian doesn’t just make you lighter and give you wings, there are things you have to deal with. Sure you already deal with some of it, like always having a sweater on to deal with getting cold easier. But this is just another cookie incident.”

Grian crossed his arms. “I’m not actually allergic to chocolate, I just get indigestion.”

Doc just sighed. “Right, well, obviously in this case at least, you had no clue what was going on. Can I ask why?”

Grian ruffled his feathers. “It’s not like I grew up with any other avians. I just had to figure it out on my own. And even outside of that I didn’t have the best life growing up. Then the Evo experiment was a mess, but that was the calmest I had been, so when I… hurt someone-”

“Alright, that makes sense. Instinct took a back seat because you felt in danger. When it was finally calm enough, it had been repressed long enough that it made you more violent. That worried you, so you continued until you got to this point. And you had no clue that that was what was causing things.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess that sounds about right.” Grian answered, rubbing the back of his head. “So wait, is all this going to happen again?”

Doc shook his head. “Not to this scale. Just make a mark on your calendar to watch out for this next year. Then just contact Mumbo, Scar, or anyone else you need and just hang around each other for a few days. No one will get hurt and you’ll feel fine.”

“Hey, that’s great and all.” Scar cut in. “But I think he should probably learn from example, right Doc?”

Doc was slightly flustered and tripped over his words slightly. “I-I’m sorry? I’m not sure wh-what you’re talking about.”

“You’re forgetting the few times I had to shove you out of Area 77 because you were sizzling too much. I may not know what it looks like when avians are repressing instincts, but I know how it is for creepers.”

Doc sighed. “Alright, yeah. Just took a few days waiting for you guys. But a few days is still better than a few years, so it’s not that bad. I’ll just… have to follow you guys back to the jungle.”

“Why the jungle?” Grian asked curiously.

“Uh… creeper thing. Long story.”

“How about we meet a bit more so you can tell me some avian things and you tell me some creeper things?” Grian asked with a smile.

“I’m not so sure about-”

“Oh, what’s this? A stray cookie?”

“Alright! Fine! I’m not dealing with that and Stress isn’t close enough to take over. Let’s just go.”

#hermitcraft #grian #avian!Grian #goodtimeswithscar #bdoubleo100 #mumbo jumbo #iskall85 #docm77 #references to Evo

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sadachmesarthim · 3 years

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towers for your honeycomb chap 2: more meany pants tony

part one

content: tony’s being a dick again, mention of Peter’s Family Problems, confined spaces, smoking, @carelessannie is a character and Has A Boyfriend That Is a Real Person I Know, tony calls peter a turtle, crying

word count: 1.5k // square filled: locked in a closet!

song for this chapter here -> that’s not a good excuse - eli.

It was late, it was cold... mid-December nights were usually slow, but not no-car-in-sight-for-hours slow. Peter didn't handle any of those well on their own, but all three?

Working with Tony the entire time didn't do much to help, either.

They'd clocked on together, they'd be clocking off together - it was his worst nightmare. There wasn't anything to do, either - they'd already finished half of the closing list and every single chore. Annie had FaceTimed her boyfriend after finishing her chem homework - hell - the girls'd made a snowman outside the front of the stand, for fuck's sake!

Time was barely crawling. It made Peter irritable - apparently, it made Tony irritable, too.

⁘|||⁘

Annie hung up her FaceTime call with Sebastian, excited at the prospect of food. She turned, ready to take orders from the three that were now in front of her. "Okay - Panda Express - what is he bringing us?"

Courtney piped up first. "I'll just do another of what you're doing, A." She went back to her phone, more interested in her boy of the week than the rest of the conversation.

Annie typed it into her texts, looking back toward the boys. "You two - what is he getting you?" Tony spoke next. "I'll do the same thing. I'm easy." Peter scoffed a bit at that, covering it poorly with a cough. Annie shot him a look. Don't start shit.

"Peter, anything?" She knew him too well to ask. "Nah babe, I'm gonna eat at home."

That suddenly got Tony's attention. "What, you're not eating? We still have two hours left, and you look like you're about to fall over." Perfect Parker timing, his stomach growled - audibly enough to justify Tony's comment.

Peter shoved past him, making his way toward the back. He didn't want to engage - he wanted to- to- to text Resa, pour himself into some chores, maybe dive into a snowdrift - literally anything but continue the conversation.

Tony on the other hand... he didn't know when to stop. "What's your deal, Parker? The man is bringing us food, on his own dime. You really gonna be rude enough to refuse?"

Peter closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. "It doesn't matter what my deal is, Tony - maybe I just don't like Panda. Maybe I don't want something that heavy on my stomach. Maybe my mom has food waiting for me at home. You don't know shit - so why don't you just leave it alone?" Mmm a bit harsh, Parker, take it down a notch.

Tony scoffed. "We both know you don’t have anything waiting for you, anywhere, Parker. Quit talkin' big and just accept the generosity."

Both Courtney and Annie gasped at that one. It was common knowledge around the stand that Peter's home life was off-limits. Hell, everyone's was - leave your shit at the door applied to everyone else's shit too. Apparently, Tony didn't get the memo.

"Okay, nope. I'm not listening to this conversation. Both of you, fridge!" Courtney - taller and stronger than both of them - grabbed the boys, practically tossing them into the walk-in. The door slammed behind them, something jamming it from the outside.

Her voice was muffled, but they both understood - they weren't getting out until they figured this out. They'd been fighting off and on for months, and it was causing serious issues in the stand. The girls were uncomfortable - sure, it was fine if they were separated during shifts, but that couldn't go on forever.

This just happened to be everyone’s final straw.

Peter pressed his forehead into the door, not wanting to face the other man. This wasn't exactly how he'd planned on spending his evening - and now that he found himself here, he was going to do everything he could to avoid avoid avoid any further confrontation.

His mouth hadn’t caught the memo.

“That’s two.” Shut the fuck up.

He couldn’t see them, but he could practically hear Tony’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Two what?” He was still seated, from what Peter could tell. At least he wasn’t about to get his ass beat.

“Two apologies you owe me. Me and the girls. For being rude, and talking shit in the stand.” God damn it Peter, shut your mouth!

Tony scoffed. “You’re still on about that? Come on, Parker, can’t you just let it go?”

He tried. Peter tried really, really hard to hold himself back, he did. But it just... it wasn’t like him, to take shit like this. To allow someone like- like- like Tony Stark to make his life a living hell. Mob connections be damned, he wasn’t going to take it anymore. It was exhausting, and Peter was tired of coming to work every day dreading his shift.

He got up, turning to face Tony. He might’ve been shorter than him normally, but with Tony sat on the foot-tall milk crate, there was quite a difference. It was childish, but it made him feel like he had the upper hand.

“You- you- you can’t keep pushing me around like this, Tony. You’ve been a dick to me for months, and I’m sick of it. All I wanted was one stupid, little apology, and you can’t even give me that!

“I left you alone! I tried to make our shifts together easy, I stayed out of your way! I begged Courtney to never schedule us or rotate us together. Do you know how difficult that is?? Especially in a stand this size, Tony, it’s nearly impossible.” He was near tears at this point, voice close to breaking.

“And then you have the audacity to come here, in my stand, and talk about my- my family - which was not fucking okay, by the way. It just- it’s so cruel, Tony! I’m done!

“I tried to be nice, I really did. But you make it so fucking difficult. So forgive me for not being able to just let it go.”

⁘|||⁘

Peter was always an ugly crier. Snotty, red eyes, uncontrollable shaking.

He was also an angry crier. The two tended not to mesh well.

It didn’t help that people tended to not take him seriously anyway. He was small, entirely not intimidating. Couldn’t hurt a fly. The second you get him even remotely upset, and he bursts into tears?

He wasn’t expecting sympathy from Tony.

⁘|||⁘

He was done sobbing by this point, but the damage was done.

He’d thoroughly embarassed himself in front of the man he’d just... just demanded so much from. It wasn’t his lowest moment, but it was close. Nice going, P.

Peter was convinced he couldn’t be locked in the fridge with anyone wor-

There was a hand on his shoulder.

His head shot up, grabbing Tony by the wrist. “Don’t touch me!” It came out louder than he’d intended, and the look of fear written on Tony’s face did make him feel a bit bad. Peter hadn’t let go. “Just- don’t- just ask first, fuck.”

He released his grip, turning to dig his head back into his arms. He’d tucked himself into the far corner, drawing his knees up around him so he could get as far from the door as possible. He wanted to sink himself straight into the floor, mesh with the concrete, never show his face at work again -

But there Tony was, looking down at him like he was a startled puppy.

He plopped himself down next to Peter, facing in toward the center of the fridge. He tilted his head, making contact with Peter’s left knee. “Would you look at me?” Gentle.

Peter sniffled, trying to clear his nose. He knew he wasn’t the most presentable right now - wet spots soaking both of his sleeves, nose probably bright & cherry-tinged. He shifted, just barely peeking past his forearms.

“There we go.” Peter sniffled again.

Tony looked like there was a war going on inside him. Peter’d never spent this long looking at him - certainly never this long at his eyes. There was so much to them, so much hurt and understanding he’d never seen before. So much he recognized.

Tony was drawing circles into his shin, now, steady movement bringing him back to the present. “Come on, little turtle, come outta that shell for me.”

Peter’s eyebrows drew together. “’m not a turtle.”

Tony laughed. “What, then? Hermit crab? Clownfish? What else hides when it’s upset?” It was a sad attempt at breaking the tension, and he knew it.

Peter wasn’t phased by it, either. His glare stuck.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry. No animal nicknames. I got it.” He smiled as his hands came away from Peter’s body, pulling up in a defensive position. “Plain ‘ole human insults, then, promise.”

Peter let out a huff. “How hard was that?”

“Was what?”

“You said sorry.” Oh.

“I... I guess I did.” Tony’s hands came down. He pushed himself to his feet, crossing toward the door. “Consider it an accident.” His entire demeanor had shifted - he was back to his normal, standoff-ish self.

Whoever Peter’d spent the last couple of minutes with was gone.

“N- Tony I-”

“Forget it, Peter. Seriously.” He pushed at the handle of the fridge door, thankful it was free to open. He bypassed the girls, grabbing the rest of his shit and tearing out the door. The cigarette barely lit with how fast he made the trek to his truck, lighter burning the side of his thumb.

When did he get so soft?

Fuck.

tag list: @longlivestarker @bluestarker xoxo

#sfsummerbingo21 #starkerfestivalsevents #starker #peter parker/tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #.mine #.fic #i wrote all of this save the last bit of dialogue a week ago #i just couldn't find a place to end it #i found a place apparently #coffee shop au #more enemies babey

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whentheynameyoujoy · 3 years

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So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

youtube

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

#atla #atla movie #zutara #anti bryke #dev patel #the last airbender #anti-kataang

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